


And I Would Have Gotten Away with It, Too, If It Weren’t for You Meddling Kids . . . And Devil

by Annielouwho1985



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Camp, F/M, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Inspired by Scooby Doo, Major Character Injury, Mystery, Recreational Drug Use, Scooby Doo References, Spirits, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:15:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 79,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26115541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annielouwho1985/pseuds/Annielouwho1985
Summary: SPOILER ALERTS FOR SEASON FIVE, PART ONELucifer's not sure how he ended up here, at an old camp with a bunch of preteen girls on a Scouting event. Was this a part of his "normal" life now that he and Detective Decker were officially an item? He really couldn't think of anything more boring. Camp Wildbegone has a spotless record when it comes to safety, except for that camper who drowned in 1920, and that counselor who was recently murdered. Was the murderer a fellow counselor, the high strung director, the creepy groundskeeper, or an angry spirit looking for vengeance from beyond the grave? On second thought, maybe things won't be so boring after all.
Relationships: Amenadiel & Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, Michael & Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Trixie Espinoza & Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 367
Kudos: 341





	1. The Old Campground

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILER ALERTS FOR SEASON FIVE, PART ONE
> 
> Okay, so I had the basic idea for this story after I completed "Joy To You And Me," my first Lucifer inspired fanfiction. I couldn't get it to come together, though, so I just sat on it. After watching the first part of season five, it clicked, though. This story takes place after Chloe and Lucifer finally hooked up, but before Dan discovered who Lucifer really is. (Yeah, I know those two things happened the other way around in the show.) I'm taking creative license, though, and extending time in the Lucifer universe and pretending like there's more time after the hookup, more time for Deckerstar to develop themselves as a couple. Michael does exist in this universe, and he's in this fic. Don't get me wrong, he is still a dickhead, but even a dickhead has a story. This is not cannon with the graphic novels or probably with where the show is going with his character, but I felt compelled to explore this angle. Also, I can't believe they haven't done an episode that was inspired by Scooby Doo. I took care of that for them. I do not own any of these characters. I just really appreciate them. 
> 
> Also, there is no pandemic in my story. This is in no way intended to forget all the people who have died and suffered during this hard time, but this story worked better taking place not during a pandemic. Stay safe, everyone.

The floorboards in the old bunkhouse creaked beneath the pairs of sneakers. Everything was covered in cobwebs and dust, and their footfall left distinct prints, disturbing a place that hadn’t been disturbed in years. The dark was quiet and still around them, even the normal sounds of all the night bugs seemed muted inside this place. Maybe it was all the dust? Maybe it absorbed the sound? Amber barely breathed. She was terrified, but she was also excited. Jeremy held her hand a little tighter and turned to look back at her. He held his flashlight under his chin, giving his face a ghoulish glow.

“This is the last place anyone saw Catherine before her untimely death in the caves. She was here that morning, quiet as always, but then she disappeared.” Jeremy stopped at the stairs and let go of her hand. He looked up at the dark stairwell before them. “No one saw her again until they found her body in the creek. She’d drowned in the caves during a flash flood and had washed out as the water receded.”

“Lovely,” Amber grimaced.

Jeremy shown his light around the second story. The banister up there was just as dusty as everything below it. He focused his light on a specific door. “That was the room she bunked in.” He put the light back under his face and gave her a wicked smirk. “Wanna check it out, see if she’s still hanging around? Lots of people have seen her ghost.”

Amber rolled her eyes, but her heart was racing. “I don’t believe in ghosts.”

Jeremy reached out and took her hand again. “They say Catherine was really shy, but you’re not shy, are you?” He leaned in and kissed her. She kissed back and then his arms were around her waist and her hands were in his hair. Their mouths, teeth, and tongues clashed for dominance. Amber was considering taking it a step further when something popped above them. 

Amber pulled away and looked up into the blackness. “What was that?”

“Probably a mouse,” Jeremy replied, eager to get back to what they had been doing.

“Big mouse,” Amber countered, her voice a little shaky.

“Or maybe it was Catherine?” Jeremy shone the light under his face again. “Wanna find out?”

“Jeremy, I don’t know . . . .”

“Oh, come on. It’s been almost one hundred years since her death, I bet she’s hanging around, watching us.” He snickered. “The perv.” The popping noise happened again, and Jeremy directed his light upstairs. “Come on, let’s go see.” He started to pull Amber up the stairs, but she resisted. 

“I don’t wanna go.”

“Come on, Amber.” He tried again.

“No, Jeremy.” She was forceful, pulling her hand back and folding her arms across her chest.

“I’m going up there,” Jeremy insisted.

“Are you serious?”

“Thought you didn’t believe in ghosts?” he threw back at her.

“I don’t,” Amber enforced.

“Okay, well I’m going up there.” Jeremy gave her another wicked grin. “And I’ll be back.”

She rolled her eyes but smiled despite herself. “Be careful, don’t fall through a floorboard,” she whispered. Jeremy slowly began to creep up the stairs. Amber barely breathed until he reached the top. He made his way to Catherine’s old room and shot her a final, smarmy look as he opened the door and disappeared behind it.

Amber shook her head. She didn’t know why she was out here. Okay, she did. She liked Jeremy. He was cute and would be the perfect summer fling. Come August she’d return to school and it’d be over, but it’d be fun while it lasted. Amber pulled her arms tighter around her and looked about the room. She’d known the stories of Camp Wildbegone before she’d taken the summer counselor job. It was one of the longest running camps in the state of California. It had a spotless reputation, save for the tragic drowning of camper Catherine Amis in 1920. That incident ensured it also had a ghost story, which had actually worked in its favor in the long run. The new campground had been built in the 1970s, but the old one had never been torn down. It remained in the woods, a deteriorating ghost town. The camp’s founder George Amis, Catherine’s grandfather, insisted in his will that the old camp could never be torn down. Some people said he’d wanted it to remain forever, a memorial to the granddaughter he’d lost.

There was a thud upstairs and Amber’s head shot up. “Jeremy?” No answer. “Jeremy, come on, quit kidding around.” Still no answer. “Jeremy?!” Amber ran up the stairs as quickly as she could in the dark. She swore to God, if Jeremy was puling one over on her, she was going to make him wait a week before having sex with him.

“Jeremy?!” Amber reached to open the door he’d disappeared behind, but it opened before she could put her hand on the knob. The girl’s eyes grew wide. Even in the dark, she knew who was standing before her, and it made no sense for them to be there. 

“You?!” That was the last word she said as two gloved hands reached out and wrapped around her neck. They pressed hard, cutting off her air supply. Amber struggled with the figure. She managed to wrestle herself free as her lungs started to burn. She gulped in a deep breath as she staggered backwards. She hit the old bannister with force and it broke behind her. Amber didn’t have enough air to scream as she fell backwards through the air. Her neck struck a table beneath her snapping on impact and killing her instantly. The figure above disappeared into the night and everything was quiet in the old bunkhouse once more.


	2. Devils Don’t Do Mornings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPOILER ALERTS FOR SEASON FIVE, PART ONE

Chloe Decker woke slowly. She gradually became aware of the morning light streaming through the curtains. The bed was comfy beneath her and the sheet wrapped around her was cozy. It was too hot for any additional covering. The source of the heat was a steady presence against her back. Lucifer ran hotter than normal people. Well, Chloe guessed he ran hotter than any person, any human. She didn’t know if it was an angel thing, or a devil thing, but she looked forward to exploring it further at a ski resort that winter.

Chloe smiled and rolled over, snuggling into Lucifer’s side. She could stay here forever, she thought as she rested her head on his chest. He was still sleeping soundly. It had taken them long enough to fall into his bed, and now they were having sleepovers at her place. After five years, she deserved to stretch these moments out for as long as she could. Chloe smiled again. Her fingertips traced lightly across his abdomen. She didn’t want to wake him, not yet. He was nice like this, quiet and serene. She gave a contented sigh as she looked across the room. Their clothes were scattered all over. The detective took a moment to wonder how her bra had ended up on the top of the closest door, when her eyes drifted back down to the nightstand where a sock was and her clock and . . .Was that the time?! Oh, shit!

Chloe jerked up. It was almost 7:00. Dan would be dropping Trixie off any minute now. Shit! She thought she’d set her alarm. Wait, no, she’d been too distracted to set it. Damn fits of passion. Chloe stumbled out of the bed, searching for her underwear. “Lucifer, wake up!” she hissed. The Devil didn’t stir. “Lucifer, get up!” Chloe located her underwear and pants. She struggled to pull them on.

“Lucifer!” He was still sleeping soundly. Now the detective was annoyed. As soon as her pants were fastened, she jumped on the bed and slapped his chest. Most of her force landed on his left nipple. 

“Ow!” Lucifer roared and sat up, very much awake now. He looked at the perturbed face of the detective. “Good morning to you, too.”

“Get up. Get dressed. Trixie and Dan will be here any minute.” Chloe returned to her feet and plucked her shirt from the floor. No time for the bra. It could wait.

Lucifer felt his chest. “Really, detective, if you’re into nipple tweaking, I would’ve brought my clamps over.”

“I’m serious, get up.” She started to toss his clothes onto the bed as she came across them.

Lucifer sighed. “Why can’t Detective Dou . . .”

Chloe held up a forceful finger. “I told you not to call him that.”

Lucifer rolled his eyes but amended his words. “Why can’t Daniel take the urchin to school?”

“He wasn’t feeling well last night, I told you that,” Chloe reminded the Devil. “He was able to get an early appointment at the clinic.”

Lucifer remembered now and smiled. “Pretty sure your hands were already down my pants when you imparted that information.”

Chloe stopped and gave him a look. “I don’t think so.”

Lucifer’s smile was purely primeval. “Honestly, detective, you can’t expect me to remember things you say when you’ve already rounded third base.”

Chloe tossed his shirt at him, hitting the Devil square in the chest. “You won’t watch baseball, but you know the sexual entendre,” she huffed. “Put your clothes on!”

“What is the rush?” Lucifer wanted to know.

“It needs to look like you just got here,” Chloe insisted as she fixed her ponytail in the mirror.

“Why? I haven’t just arrived. I spent the night,” Lucifer countered. He was confused.

“I know, but this is not how I wanted to tell Trixie about us.” Chloe turned, fixing Lucifer with a desperate look.

“I don’t lie,” the Devil reminded her.

“I know.” Chloe crawled across the bed and placed her hand gently on his chest. “And I would never ask you to, I’m just asking you to get dressed, and I’ll handle the rest.”

The sound of a door opening came from downstairs followed by Dan’s voice. “Chloe! We’re here.”

“Hi, Mom!” Trixie shouted.

“Surely the urchin knows about consensual sex,” Lucifer protested. “She’s what, eight?”

“Oh my gosh.” Chloe covered his mouth with her hand. “She’s eleven, and she does know, but this is . . .it’s complicated when it’s your mother.”

Lucifer licked her hand and Chloe gave him a look. “I can appreciate that,” he told her.

Chloe was about to ask what he meant by that, but she decided against it. “Get dressed,” she hissed.

Lucifer took his shirt and started to put it on, never once breaking eye contact with her. “Chloe?!” Dan called again.

“Coming!” she called back.

“The urchin’s not sick, too, is she?” Lucifer asked as Chloe stood. 

“I don’t think so.” 

“Good. Devils don’t do mornings, love. We also don’t do snotty, dripping children.”

Chloe didn’t have a moment to think about that statement. Trixie was a big part of her life. She knew Lucifer cared for her daughter in his own way, but if they were going to be girlfriend and boyfriend and possibly more, he was going to need to step it up when it came to interacting with Trixie. There was a deeper conversation to be had here, but now was not the time. The detective slipped on her shoes and started to leave the room. She stopped in the doorway and looked back. “Please have all your clothes on when you come downstairs.”

“So particular.” Lucifer clucked his tongue.

Chloe took a breath and hurried down, hoping the Devil would obey this time. “Hey, sorry. I forgot to set my alarm,” the detective explained as she rounded the corner into the kitchen. Trixie was at the counter, happily eating a PopTart. “Hi, Monkey.” Chloe leaned down and kissed her head. 

“Mom,” Trixie protested. “I already told Dad I’m too old for that nickname.”

Chloe looked a little wounded, but she pushed it aside. “Never,” she insisted. Chloe turned her attention to Dan. He was leaning against the entryway wall, and he looked awful. “Oh, Dan, you look terrible.”

“Good morning to you, too.” He gave her a rueful smile.

Chloe walked over and felt his skin. It was pale and clammy. “Are you okay to drive to the clinic?”

“Yeah, I’ll make it,” he grumbled. “I think it’s a stomach bug, or maybe food poisoning.” Dan placed a hand on his tender stomach. “At least Trixie’s okay.”

“Yep.” Trixie took a large bite of her PopTart and Dan gagged.

Detective Espinoza looked away. “Sorry I didn’t feed her breakfast.” 

Chloe placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay. She’s perfectly capable.”

Dan shrugged her off as best he could. “Hey, don’t get too close. Don’t want you to get sick, too. That would make this morning evening worse.”

Lucifer entered the room at that moment, buttoning his shirt and tucking it into his pants. Chloe’s eyes grew wide. She looked from the Devil to Trixie to Dan. Her ex-husband gave her a withering look. He’d known that Chloe and her partner were officially sleeping together. He knew that, but there was a difference between knowing and seeing. “This is officially the worst morning of my life,” he muttered.

“Worst morning of your life so far, Daniel,” Lucifer pointed out as he fastened his cuffs. “Good morning, urchin.”

“Sorry,” Chloe whispered to Dan.

Trixie snickered as she looked from Lucifer to her mother. “Stop that,” Chloe told her.

“Did you spend the night, Lucifer?” Trixie asked.

“Yes, I did, urchin. What have you got there?” Lucifer came around Trixie to examine what she was eating. “Aw, tarts of the popped variety. Don’t mind if I do.” Lucifer took her second PopTart and started to eat it. Trixie looked back at her mother and snickered some more.

“We’ll talk later,” Chloe assured her. “Go and make sure your bag is packed for school.”

“It is,” Trixie insisted.

“Check again,” Chloe enforced.

Trixie rolled her eyes and slid off her stool. Chloe hated that she’d picked up that habit. It didn’t help that Chloe rolled her eyes at least fifteen times a day. She really needed to set a better example. 

Lucifer looked up at Dan, really taking his appearance in for the first time. “Daniel, you look awful, far worse than usual.”

“And that’s my cue to leave.” Dan fished his keys out his pocket and turned slowly on his unsteady feet.

“Let me know what the doctor says,” Chloe instructed. “And don’t come into work today. Please go home and rest. I’ll check on you later.”

Dan nodded weakly but then came to a stuttered stop. “Oh, Trixie has a Scout meeting this evening.”

“Is that today?” Chloe looked at the calendar on the fridge. 

Trixie entered the room in time to hear her father mention the meeting. “It’s Friday evening, Mom. I put it on the calendar.”

“I know. I know,” Chloe sighed.

“A Scout meeting on a Friday evening?” Lucifer was aghast. “What a terrible idea. I’ve never heard anything so awful.”

“It’s a special meeting,” Trixie explained. “Our big campout at Camp Wildbegone is this weekend.”

“On second thought, that’s even worse,” Lucifer decided as he finished his PopTart.

“If you can’t make it, Chloe,” Dan started.

“No,” Chloe cut him off. “I’ll get Trixie there. You just get some rest.”

“You know where the meetings are, right?”

“Yes, I know where the meetings are.” She fought the urge to roll her eyes at him. Deep inside she knew he had a right to ask. Chloe hadn’t made it to a Scout meeting in a long time. Dan was the Troop’s unofficial Scout Dad. “5:30, right?”

“Yes, and you’re supposed to bring a snack,” Dan winced, his hand going to his stomach.

“Go, go to the doctor!” Chloe ushered him to the door. “5:30, Old Salem Chur . . .”

“New Salem,” Dan corrected.

“New Salem Church, bring a snack. I got it.” 

Dan stopped just outside and looked back. His face was concerned, but for a completely different reason. “Chloe, how serious are you and Lucifer?”

Chloe took a breath. “Do you really want to discuss this right now, Dan?”

Detective Espinoza thought it over and no, he really didn’t. “No,” he concurred. Chloe nodded in agreement. 

“I’ll check in later,” Chloe insisted as Dan walked off slowly.

“Bye, Monkey,” he called back.

“Bye, Dad!” Trixie screamed from inside the house. “Feel better!” She turned her attention back to Lucifer’s upturned palm that was in her hands.

“Inside voice,” Lucifer remarked.

“Whatever.” Trixie pointed to a line on his palm. “Your lifeline is really long, like the longest I’ve seen.”

Chloe turned and watched them. Trixie was really big into palm reading and fortune telling right now. She smiled as she observed the pair. There was a time when Lucifer wouldn’t have let Trixie come near him, and now he was letting her hold his hand, albeit begrudgingly. The detective could get used to sights like this.

“Tell me something I don’t know,” the Devil quipped.

Trixie smirked. “You wanna know about your love line?”

“Okay, it’s time for school.” Chloe jerked away from the door and grabbed her keys. “Everybody out!”

Trixie eagerly shouldered her backpack and was at the door in an instant. She was never this excited to go to school. Something was up. “Can we take Lucifer’s car?” the preteen asked, her smile almost as big as the morning sun.


	3. I’ve Seen This Movie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPOILER ALERTS FOR SEASON FIVE, PART ONE
> 
> Don't want anyone to be caught by surprise.

Since three people could not safely fit inside Lucifer’s car, it was determined that no, they could not take his car that morning. Chloe left the option on the table for Lucifer to drive Trixie himself, but he’d turned that down in no uncertain terms, much to the young girl’s dismay. (Yeah, Chloe really needed to have a talk with him at some point about this whole coparenting thing.) But Trixie bounced back with her normal, sunny disposition. Chloe was thankful her daughter still had that, even though she knew teenagedom was just on the horizon. And at least Lucifer was decent on the drive to school and let her talk on and on about the “science” behind palm reading. He’d kept his snarky remarks to a minimum, and Trixie had laughed at every one of them. She thought Lucifer was hysterical. So, all things considered, Chloe was going to call the morning a win. It was while they were dropping Trixie off, that the call had come in from the station about the body at Camp Wildbegone. And now, 40 minutes later, they were standing inside the old bunkhouse in the old campground.

Lucifer looked at the body and then at the shape of the building they were standing in. “Detective, I’ve seen this movie. And he did it.” Lucifer pointed at an older man dressed in grungy work clothes talking to another officer on the scene. The man had a grizzled beard, and he certainly looked like he had seen a thing or two. He gave Lucifer an odd look with his good eye and kept talking.

“Lucifer!” Chloe admonished.

“If he’s not the murderer, then who is he?” the Devil wanted to know.

Forensic Scientist Ella Lopez stopped taking pictures and looked back at the man. “That’s Mr. Krenshaw, the groundskeeper. He found the bodies.”

“Bodies?” Chloe asked.

“One dead, the other only unconscious.” Ella pointed to the young man holding an ice pack to his head behind them. He sat despondently in an old chair. “Jeremy White, fellow counselor.”

“What have we got?” Chloe turned her attention back to the body on the ground.

“Amber Strickland, 21, new counselor at Camp Wildbegone. Apparently, she and Jeremy snuck in last to get a little action and uh, look for Catherine.” Ella whispered the last name quietly and quickly kissed her crucifix.

“Why are you doing that?” the Devil asked.

“Because of, you know, the stories, and out of respect for the dead.”

“She doesn’t care.” Lucifer pointed at the body.

“No, Catherine Amis. She was a camper who died here one hundred years ago . . .this month,” Ella realized. She pulled her crucifix back out from where she’d tucked it in her shirt.

“What, right here in this spot?” Lucifer was still confused.

“No, she drowned in the caves during a freak, flash flood. She’s the only person who ever died here, except for now.” Ella looked at the floor. “But people swear they see her ghost everywhere.”

Lucifer scoffed. “Ghosts? Miss Lopez, I assure you there’s no such thing.”

Ella shook her head. “No, ghosts are real. Trust me on that.”

Lucifer started to say something more, but his words caught in his throat. His sister Azrael had entrusted him with her secret. He didn’t like the idea that the Angel of Death had lied to Ella and told her she was a ghost, but he understood why she’d done it. He also knew that relationship was important to the both of them. Still, the Devil didn’t lie. Lucifer made a sort of odd sound in his throat, but fortunately Chloe spoke up before he could from an actual word.

“So, Amber fell from up there and hit her head on this table.” Chloe walked around the body and looked up at the broken bannister.

“Uh, yeah, she hit her head at the perfect angle to break her neck, and that was all she wrote,” Ella surmised.

“Could it have been an accident?” Detective Decker wondered. Nothing in this old building looked stable, and if Amber and Jeremy were sneaking around in the dark, it was completely plausible.

“We thought that for a minute, too, but there a few, other pieces to the puzzle. The fall is what killed her, but she also has bruising on her neck, consistent with attempted strangulation.” Ella knelt beside the body.

“Do you think she was pushed?” Chloe wanted to know.

“Not sure, but someone else did that to her neck . . .or something else.” Ella fingered her crucifix and took a breath. “Also, Jeremy says he got hit on the head right before Amber was attacked. The groundskeeper found him unconscious upstairs.”

“Up there?”

Ella stood back up slowly. “Yeah, in that third room. Catherine’s old room,” she whispered.

“I’m sorry. Whose death are we investigating, Amber’s or this Catherine person’s?” Lucifer wanted to know.

Chloe held up her hand in frustration. “We are here to investigate Amber’s death. Catherine died one hundred years ago in an accident.”

“One hundred years ago this month,” Ella pointed out once more. “And it may not have been an accident.”

“Ella . . .”

“Read the book, you’ll know,” the Forensic Scientist continued on. "It has all the newspaper coverage from the time, lots of oral histories. The research is tight."

“Oh, there’s a book?” Now Lucifer was vaguely interested.

“Yeah, just came out last month, but it asks more questions than it answers. Like when they pulled Catherine’s body out of the creek, everyone was around watching, and her mom was screaming at the other campers, ‘I know what you did! You killed my baby,’ I mean, what was that about?”

“Has it been adapted into a movie?” the Devil asked.

“Not yet.”

“Tell me again when there’s a movie.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “I’m going upstairs,” she announced.

“Oh, wait!” Ella sprang into action, leaving the body’s side and getting between the Detective and the stairs. “You gotta watch where you step.” And it was true, there was caution tape everywhere. “This is the other piece of the puzzle. I’ve been able to isolate Amber and Jeremy’s footsteps in the dust here, and those are Krenshaw’s. So, as you go up, you have to . . .” Ella stopped. There was no way to explain this. She shouldered her camera. “Follow me.”

Ella began to climb the stairs, avoiding the marked off footprints. It was a bit of a calculated hop at the end, but she made it up. “Fun,” Chloe sighed as she began to slowly climb.

“It’s all the fun of Twister without the promise of sex afterwards,” Lucifer commented.

“Don’t step there!” Ella cautioned as Chloe neared the top.

The Detective looked down. “Why not?” She didn’t see any tape on that particular spot.

“That board’s about to break.”

“This place is a bloody deathtrap,” Lucifer remarked. “Why don’t they tear this dusty house of horrors down?”

Chloe successfully reached the top and turned, holding a helping hand out to the Devil. He smiled and accepted it, letting her pull him over the final step. There was a time that never would have happened, and it made Chloe’s heart flutter with excitement. Their relationship was still so new, and these little discoveries of just how far they’d come were thrilling.

“Aw, you all are too cute,” Ella cooed, and they broke eye contact with one another.

“So, the, uh, room?” Chloe moved away from Lucifer awkwardly.

“Yeah, room three. And they can’t tear this place down because it says so in George Amis’s will,” Ella divulged. “He didn’t want anything changed after his granddaughter Catherine died, and the Amis Foundation still supports the camp, so, here it remains.”

Lucifer shook his head. “Honestly, you humans and your attachment to things.”

“What happened here?” Chloe pointed to the area outside the door.

“Here’s where it gets murky.” Ella looked down at the floor. “We think there was a scuffle, but there are too many footprints and half prints to know for sure. Also, in some places there are no prints, which is, weird.”

“So, the perpetrator cleaned up or had shoe covers on?” Chloe thought out loud.

“Or didn’t leave prints because they’re not really alive,” Ella added. Chloe gave her a look. “I’m just saying.”

“Let’s see what’s behind lucky door number three, shall we?” Lucifer used his pocket square to open the door, and the smell inside was overwhelming.

“What is that smell?” Chloe gagged a little.

“Old, musty carpet,” Ella informed as she pinched her nose. “They’re renovating the new campground and had to have someplace to dump it.”

“A dead carpet suite, lovely.” Lucifer used his pocket square as a shield against the smell. The room before them was nothing but stacks and stacks of rolled up carpet. The piles were as high as the windowsill and covered the entire floor.

“Did you find anything in this room?” Chloe really wanted to close the door back, but she needed to know.

“Not a lot to go on, besides moldy carpeting.” Ella turned her head away, trying to get a clearer breath. Her voice took on a cartoonish quality as she continued to speak while pinching her nose. “Since we didn’t find prints anywhere else in the bunkhouse, it’s possible another person came in through that back window. There is a tree outside and it’s manageable if you know what you’re doing.”

“The perpetrator’s been here before, then,” Chloe concluded. “How many people work at the camp?”

“Six right now since it’s not summer yet.” Ella released her nose. “Oh, I can’t do it anymore. I’ve smelled some ripe bodies, but that smell, woo!”

“Anything else?” Chloe asked as she closed the door.

“Yeah, we have a candlestick bagged downstairs. We think it was the weapon used to whack Jeremy over the head.”

“I think it’s time we question some suspects.” Chloe looked at Lucifer.

Lucifer gave a mock sigh. “If we must, but we’ll always have the memories of the dead carpet suite. And that smell, it’ll linger.”

“Which one of us has the mojo, do you reckon?” Lucifer asked after they’d successfully climbed down the stairs.

Chloe stopped and looked back at him. “What?”

“We did the deed again last night, Detective, so there’s no telling who has it right now.”

Chloe sighed. “Lucifer, I told you that one time was a fluke. The guy knew I was an actress, well, former actress. That’s all it was.”

“Still, if the opportunity presents itself, I’ll give you first crack,” Lucifer seemed incredibly pleased with his grand gesture.

“Okay.” Chloe rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the case. “Jeremy White, LAPD,” Detective Decker announced as they approached the youth slumped in the chair. He straightened up a little and winced at the pain in his head. “Is your head okay?’

“Yeah, I guess so.” Jeremy removed the ice pack and considered it for a moment. “They don’t think I have any permanent damage.”

“May I?” Chloe asked and Jeremy shrugged.

“Sure. Everyone else has looked at my head.”

Chloe took a step closer and gently examined his wound. “That is a nasty bump, but it didn’t break the skin. You’re lucky. You could have been hit a lot harder.”

“This is lucky?” Jeremy asked incredulously, then he thought about it. “Guess I could be dead, like Amber.”

“Yes, about that,” Lucifer chimed in, “we understand you and Amber were sneaking around last night. Trying to recreate your favorite horror movie, were you? Obviously, poor Amber wasn’t a virgin, else she’d still be alive.” He looked at Jeremy closer. “Are you a virgin?” Chloe’s eyes grew wide.

“What?! No!” Jeremy took offense. “And I knew Amber wasn’t, either. It was just a summer thing.”

“Apologies for my partner. How did you and Amber know each other?”

“We’re both counselors here. We met last week for training. She seemed hot and approachable. Amber’s not as hot as Daphne, but she’s only 19, which is a little young for me. I’ve already been in trouble for selling alcohol to minors once. I’m not making that mistake twice.” Jeremy shook his head and winced again.

“Charming,” Chloe remarked. “Whose idea was it to come to the old campground last night?”

“It was mine. I thought we could sneak past Old Man Krenshaw and have some fun.”

“Old Man Krenshaw?” Lucifer asked.

“The creepy groundskeeper. Dude is always right there. He guards this place like it was Fort Knox or something.”

“Told you he did it,” Lucifer told Chloe.

She brushed him off and continued with her line of questioning. “Did you see Mr. Krenshaw last night?”

“No. He wasn’t here, which made sneaking in real easy.”

“Why did you go upstairs?”

“We heard a noise,” Jeremy explained. “I thought it was a mouse, and Amber was spooked. I thought I’d go up, check it out, and then jump out and scare her. Get her all wound up. Girls love that kind of stuff.”

“Do they?” Chloe looked back at Lucifer.

“Well, it’s not my go to foreplay, but I’ve dabbled.”

“Never mind.” She returned her attention to Jeremy. “What happened when you went upstairs?”

“I opened that door, smelled those nasty carpets, and then something hit me on the head, and next thing I know, Old Man Krenshaw is in my face.” He pressed the ice pack a little harder on his head. “I’ve had some bad wake up calls, but that was the worst.”

“You didn’t see anyone else, the person who hit you?”

“No. It happened so fast, and I was out.” Jeremy removed the ice pack and shook it. “I think I need a new one.”

“You were out from that?” Lucifer indicated the bump on his head. “That is the paper cut of head wounds.”

Jeremy fidgeted in his chair. “Yeah, uh, the paramedics think the molly I dropped before coming over had something to do with that.”

“So, you and Amber did drugs?” Detective Decker asked.

“No, Amber didn’t,” Jeremy hurried to clarify. “Just me. I like to take a hit before getting it on, enhances the experience, if you know what I mean?”

“No, I don’t,” Chloe assured.

“Oh, yes,” Lucifer replied. They both stopped talking and looked at one another.

“There’s so many rules around here, I just needed a break,” Jeremy bemoaned. “I thought this was a summer camp, not a Russian gulag.”

“Sit tight, Trotsky, we’ll check back with you,” Chloe instructed as she stepped around him.

“What are you thinking, Detective?” Lucifer asked as they moved on. “Do we finally get to question the creepy gardener?”

“Groundskeeper, and yes.”

“Excellent.” Lucifer made a beeline for the man before she could say anything else. “Why’d you kill her?” Lucifer demanded to know the minute he reached Krenshaw.

The older man looked stricken. “Excuse me?”

“Do you get your sick jollies off of torturing teenagers? You let them come here, watch a little, and then off one? Is it some sort of ritual?” Lucifer sized him up. “Did no one love you as a child?”

“What is going on?” the man wanted to know.

“Excuse my partner, Mr. Krenshaw. Detective Decker with the LAPD, we have some questions for you, different questions.” She gave Lucifer a pointed look before continuing. “What time did you discover Amber’s body?”

“At 7:30, during my morning check. I found her down here, and then I heard some moaning upstairs. That’s where I found that little shit. After that, I went to the office and called the police straight away,” Krenshaw explained.

“And the office is where?” Chloe wanted to know.

“Down there at the new site. We don’t have a phone up here.”

“You don’t have a cellphone?”

Krenshaw scowled. “Never had a use for those things, and service up here is spotty at best.”

Lucifer was aghast. “No mobile? What century is this?”

“How long have you worked at the camp, Mr. Krenshaw?” Chloe inquired.

“Almost twenty years.” The look on his face at this realization was hard to place. “Mr. Jenson hired me. He’s, uh, been the director since 2000. Saved the camp from ruin, he did.”

“And you care for the grounds and guard the buildings?”

“I guard the old site. New site has cameras, all that stuff. I make sure no one sneaks in here and fools around, or upsets Miss Catherine.” He gave a nervous look around the space.

Chloe stopped writing in her notepad. “Upsets Catherine?”

“We respect Miss Catherine here. This is her place. She doesn’t take too kindly to strangers disturbing it, as you can see.” He indicated Amber’s body and shook his head sadly.

“You think a ghost did this?” Chloe was now as skeptical and cynical about this whole thing as Lucifer was.

“Activity’s been stepping up around here lately. Lots of weird things happening. I knew it was only a matter of time before something really bad happened,” Krenshaw elaborated. “If I was here last night, I could’ve stopped them, saved that poor girl from her awful fate.”

“And where were you last night?” Chloe pressed.

Krenshaw bit his bottom lip. “My mother’s funeral. I begged Mr. Jenson to let me off, but he wouldn’t. I went anyhow, and it was an Irish wake.”

“Oh, those are a delight,” Lucifer spoke up. Chloe looked at him. “I mean, our condolences on your loss.”

“I had to sleep it off at my brother’s, and then I got here this morning, and . . .” Krenshaw wrung his hands and looked to the heavens. “I should’ve known. One hundred years, Miss Catherine is looking for retribution.”

Chloe took a breath and looked at her notepad. She had no idea where to go from here. “Do the thing,” Lucifer whispered and nudge her.

“What?”

“Do the thing,” the Devil whispered again. “The mojo.”

“Right.” Chloe took another breath and looked Krenshaw directly in the eyes. “Mr. Krenshaw, what is it you truly desire?”

The older man just stared at her for a moment. “Obviously, I wish I was here last night at my post. What kind of question is that?”

“Don’t got it,” Chloe told her partner as she leaned back. At that moment, her cellphone rang. She fished it out of her back pocket. It was Dan. “Excuse me, I have to take this.” As soon as she answered, she could hear her ex-husband throwing up on the other end. So could Lucifer, and he grimaced.

Chloe stepped away from them. “Dan, are you okay?”

Dan took a deep breath. “I feel a little better now.”

“Did you make it to the clinic okay?”

“Yeah, they’re, uh, running some tests.”

With Chloe’s attention directed elsewhere, Lucifer turned back to Krenshaw. “All right, creepy gardener man, what is it you really desire?”

Krenshaw’s face went slack. “I, uh, I . . .”

“Did you desire to wrap your hands around that girl’s neck before flinging her to her death?”

“No. I want to be a better son, but now it’s too late, because my mother is – is dead.” Krenshaw began to wail and Lucifer was taken aback. “I missed so much these last twenty years,” he blubbered on.

Chloe looked over her shoulder at the now crying suspect. “Dan, I gotta go. Lucifer’s made our suspect cry.”

“Don’t worry about me. It’s just a stomach bug,” Dan weakly assured. “I’ll still be good to take Trixie to her campout this weekend.”

“Campout?” Chloe suddenly realized where they were and where Trixie’s Scout Troop was supposed to be going this weekend. “Oh, no.”

“What?” Dan wanted to know.

“I’ll tell you later. Call me when you get your results,” she instructed. But Dan didn’t reply. “Dan?” Chloe looked at her phone. The call had been dropped and she’d lost signal. “Damnit.”

Ella happened to be walking by at that moment. “Yeah, this place has the worst reception. Everything okay?”

“Dan’s sick. He’s at the doctor.”

“Oh man, I hope he’s all right.”

“Yeah, it’s just a stomach thing.”

Ella nodded. “Hey, the rest of the staff is here. They’re out on the porch.”

“Right, thanks, Ella.” Krenshaw let out a really loud wail, and Chloe looked over at him. “I gotta fix this first.”

“I’ve seen ugly criers, but that takes the cake,” Ella observed.

Detective Decker hurried back over to Lucifer and the groundskeeper. The Devil was doing his best to console the man without really touching him. “There, there,” he offered, gently tapping the man on his shoulder.

“Lucifer, what did you do?” Chloe hissed as she approached.

“Nothing. The poor man misses his mother,” the Devil defended himself.

Krenshaw pulled a soiled hanky from his overalls and blew his nose. “It’s true, but I knew the job when I accepted it.” He took a breath and calmed himself. “I won’t abandon my post a second time. Miss Catherine can’t be left alone.” He blew his nose again. “Am I free to go? I have a lot of work to do.”

Chloe didn’t see a reason to detain him any further. “Yeah, just don’t leave the area, or anything.”

“Where would I go?” Krenshaw sighed. “This is my home now.” He slowly walked away.

Lucifer watched him go for a moment. “I’m less convinced he’s the murderer now, but if the other suspects don’t check out, we’ll come back to him.”

Turns out, the other suspects were less than helpful. First, there was Brad Jenson, the camp’s director. Chloe very quickly decided that describing him as high-strung would be a compliment to his anxiety. “This is the last time I hire a board member’s nephew. Never again! Never again! I have a hiring process, you know. But then they expect me to break it, hire any tweaker or pothead just because they donate some money?”

“It was one hit of molly.” Lucifer shrugged. “Why is everyone making a big deal of this?”

Chloe had used up her looks for the morning. She ignored him as she tried to get a word in around Brad’s meltdown. “What about Amber, did you want to hire her?”

Brad took a breath. “Yeah. She seemed like a good kid, head on her shoulders. I screen thoroughly, did I say that?”

“Once or twice.”

Brad shook his head. “This is why I don’t hire high schoolers. College kids are better. You have to pay ‘em a little more, but they’re more mature and . . .Maybe I’m losing my instincts? How could I have missed that with Amber?”

“You have a problem with the counselors sneaking out here a lot?” Chloe asked.

Brad was wounded. “Never! My counselors know the old campsite is off limits. But Amber and Jeremy were new. I bring the new counselors in early, so I can train them, mold them.”

“Where were you last night?”

“At the camp, where else? I sleep in my office. My bed is built into the wall,” he divulged.

“That’s bleak,” Lucifer commented.

“We’ve been renovating. It’s nonstop, and now summer’s almost here.” Brad ran his hand through his hair. “What am I going to do?”

“First, you’re going to call off your weekend camps.”

Brad stumbled on his feet. “Oh no, we can’t do that, we’ll go under. The renovations have been so expensive, and there’s the insurance on this relic.” He threw his hands up in the air. “It’s this damn albatross I can’t get rid of!”

“Why don’t you have security cameras out here?” Chloe wanted to know.

“We did have them, but then they shorted out, caused a fire in the spring house.”

“Where’s the spring house?”

Brad pointed to the back end of the campsite where there was the foundation of a building but nothing more. “Exactly. I couldn’t risk the whole thing burning down.”

“It seems to me, Brad, that if your campsite burns, you’ve solved two problems,” Lucifer reasoned. “Your albatross is dead, and you get the insurance money.”

“The LAPD does not advocate arson or insurance fraud,” Chloe hastily added.

Brad shook his head adamantly. “I made a promise to protect these grounds. I left my engineering job at Disneyland to save this camp.”

“Can anyone vouch that you were in your office last night?”

“Of course, the whole staff sleeps on site during training. It’s the best way to get used to the place, and Catherine.”

Chloe sighed. “You, too, huh, with this whole Catherine thing?”

Brad’s face was deadly serious. “Catherine still lives here. She never left. Spend enough time around here, and you’ll see.”

“Okay.” Chloe finished her notes with a pointed punctuation mark. “That’s enough for now. I’ll let you know if we need any other information.”

“But my camp, Detective, do I really have to close it?” Brad begged. “This happened at the old campsite, and no one will come down here again, I promise. I can’t really be held liable for something a ghost may have done, right?”

Chloe stared at him for a moment. “We’ll circle back to that later.”

“I know this will sound odd coming from me,” Lucifer whispered to her, “but these people are batshit crazy.”

“Yeah,” Chloe agreed.

Fortunately, the rest of the staff was a little more normal. Head counselor Sarah Barnes seemed to have her head screwed on at least. “You’re the head counselor at 21?” Chloe was surprised. “You’re the same age as Amber. Did that cause any friction?”

“No,” Sarah assured. “I’ve been coming here since I was fourteen. This camp saved my life. I became a counselor at eighteen, soon as I could. This place means a lot to me.”

“What was Amber like as a counselor?”

Sarah shrugged. “She seemed fine. It was just training, but she appeared dedicated enough. Jeremy wasn’t as dedicated, but I didn’t know they were into each other, or anything like that.”

“Where were you last night?”

“In the new bunkhouse. We all were. They must have snuck out, which you can probably see on the cameras.”

“We will check that out,” Chloe assured. “Do you ever know any of the counselors before they come to work here?”

Sarah shook her head. “No. Amber was actually the only exception. We were in middle school together for a little bit.”

“Did she remember you?”

“Not really,” Sarah replied. “It was only a few months and then I moved.”

“Where do you stand on Catherine, Ms. Barnes?” Lucifer wanted to know. “Vengeful spirit or plain old lunacy?”

Sarah took a breath and looked around. “I didn’t believe in ghosts, like at all, but weird things happen here all the time.”

“Oh yeah, weird stuff is always happening,” counselor in training Fred added when it was his turn to be questioned. They had decided to question the last two counselors together.

“Yeah, there are always noises,” Daphne elaborated. “And stuff is always disappearing, like my hairbrush. But if that stops now, I guess it was Amber and not a ghost.”

“And it doesn’t bother you, working in a supposedly haunted camp?” Chloe couldn’t believe she was asking that.

“No, that’s why I wanted to work here,” Fred confessed. “Did you see that special the Ghost Hunters did out here?”

“That was a good one,” Daphne agreed.

“Must’ve missed it,” Chloe quipped.

“But we can all agree that someone needs to make a movie about this, right?” Lucifer wanted to know.

“Yes,” the two counselors concurred.

Chloe had one look left in her and she gave it to her devilish partner. “What? I just want to know why people are so interested in this. A movie would be helpful.”

“But we haven’t seen anything,” Fred clarified.

“Yeah, we’ve just heard stuff,” Daphne finished for him.

“So, you didn’t hear Jeremy and Amber sneak out last night?” the Detective wanted to know.

“I didn’t even know he was into her,” Daphne confessed. “I thought Jeremy was into me.”

“Yeah, guess he won’t be working here anymore after all this. Too bad.” Fred didn’t really seem upset.

“Poor Amber.” Daphne clutched her hand to her chest. Fred put his arm around her in a smooth act of consolation. “She was a nice person, you know?”

Chloe looked at them for a moment. “Wait, your names are Fred and Daphne?” She chuckled and looked at Lucifer. “You’re right, you have seen this movie.” The Devil looked confused. “I’ll explain it to you later.”

“What’s going to happen to us?” Daphne wanted to know. “Is the camp gonna close?”

“Oh, man, I need this job. I’m saving for a car,” Fred explained.

“We don’t know yet,” Chloe told them. “Our job is to keep you safe, and if we don’t think you’re safe here, we will close the camp.” Daphne nodded sadly and let Fred comfort her just a little longer.

“What movie were you referring to?” Lucifer asked as they left the porch to inspect the grounds further.

“It’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? An old camp, a vengeful ghost, a gang of kooky characters, Fred and Daphne.” She stopped walking because he obviously wasn’t getting it. “Scooby Doo.”

“Oh, yes, that children’s program with the stoner chap and his dog.”

“Of course,” Chloe sighed.

Hours later, they’d been all over both campsites and had nothing else to go on. The security footage did show Jeremy and Amber sneaking out. It also showed everyone else was still inside. This was the most clueless crime Chloe had seen in a while. It was almost like a ghost . . .nope, she was not even going to think it.

Chloe was starring at the tree outside the old bunkhouse again when her phone chimed. She pulled it out to realize she not only had one text message, but she had several, and voicemails even though her phone had never rung. Damn spotty reception. Chloe began to weed her way through the messages, and her eyes went wide.

“Lucifer, we’ve got to go!” She ran to find her partner seated on the porch in an old rocker, sipping on his flask. “What are you doing?”

“Taking a break, enjoying the porch, and this view. Maybe there is something to this whole nature thing.”

“We’ve gotta go! It’s Dan!”

Lucifer huffed and screwed the lid on his flask. “Leave it to Dan to ruin the moment even when he’s not here.”

“It’s his appendix. He’s having emergency surgery. And it’s, shit, it’s three o’clock, we’ve been here all day. I gotta stop by the station, pick Trixie up, and stop by the hospital.” Chloe was a whirlwind of action. “And Trixie’s got her Scout meeting and they’re going to talk about the campout, and I have to tell them. Damnit.”

Lucifer put his hands gently on her shoulders. “It will be all right. We’ll go back to the station. I can help you finish up there. Then you can drop me at my car and do whatever else you need to. See, teamwork, we can do this.”

Chloe took a breath. “You’re right. Divide and conquer, that’s the only way we’ll get this done.” She smiled sweetly and placed her hand on his arm.

Lucifer took a step back. “I don’t like this look on your face. What is it you want me to do, exactly?”


	4. The Prosciutto Costs Extra

Dan Espinoza slowly opened his eyes. He winced a little. His stomach still hurt, but not as much as it had earlier before his surgery. He blinked his eyes and the world around him came into better focus. Things were a little clearer now than they had been the first time he’d woken up in recovery. He still felt like he was floating, though, and it wasn’t a bad feeling at all. The nurse had told him they’d been able to reach Chloe and that Trixie would be coming by to see him. Dan hoped he’d be out of recovery soon so he could actually have visitors. They already told him he’d be staying overnight. Apparently, his appendix had been pretty bad, and the doctors wanted to be sure he didn’t have an infection. In hindsight, he probably should have paid attention to that pain in his back and side the past few weeks, but he thought he’d pulled a muscle at the gym.

There was noise on the other side of the curtain, but there was always noise in a hospital. It was the worst place to go to get rest. Thank goodness for the good drugs. A nurse poked her head around the curtain. She seemed really happy. Was she blushing? “You have some guests, Mr. Espinoza.” Guests? In recovery? That was almost unheard of. Dan was confused and loopy but also excited. Leave it to Chloe to talk her way back there.

“Hello, Daniel, you look slightly better,” Lucifer commented as he pulled the curtain aside with his free hand. His other hand was wrapped around a basket overflowing with flowers complete with balloons and a giant bow.

Dan’s face fell. “Why does Chloe hate me?”

The Devil sighed. “The better question is, why does the Detective hate me? She sent me to check on you.” He clucked his tongue. “Honestly, it can’t always be about you, Dan.”

“How are you feeling, Daddy?” Trixie asked as she stepped around Lucifer. She moved to her father’s other side. 

At least his daughter was there. Dan reached out and Trixie took his hand. “Better now that the doctors took out my mean old appendix.”

“Remember, you only have five minutes,” the nurse told Lucifer. 

“We truly appreciate it, Nurse Stacey,” the Devil crooned in turn.

Nurse Stacey blushed again and stepped away. Dan shook his head. Unbelievable. “How’d you get back here?” he wanted to know.

“Lucifer’s got skills,” Trixie replied. She held out her fist and Lucifer bumped it. They each made an explosion noise as they pulled their hands apart. “Oh, good, you all have a thing now,” Dan sighed. 

“I heard you have to stay overnight, so I brought some friends to keep you company.” Trixie set a hospital gift shop bag on the edge of his bed and began to pull out various stuffed animals. “I wasn’t sure which one you’d like best, so Lucifer let me buy them all.”

“Yes, I’m very generous,” the Devil assured. He pointed to the basket of flowers. “This is from the department, though, not me.” He looked around for a place to set it, and finding none, he squeezed it into the space between Dan’s feet and the bedrail.

Dan couldn’t muster the energy to be properly annoyed with the other man’s antics. Trixie started showing him the stuffed animals and telling him their names. He ran his hand gently across her face as she talked. She’d grown so much, but in moments like these where she brought him stuffed animals to make him feel better, she was still his little girl. 

Lucifer was less than moved by the scene before him. He turned his attention to the IV stand. “Let’s see what they’ve got you on here, Daniel,” he commented. Behind the bag that was currently hooked to the recovering man, there was a second, full one. “Oh, this is good stuff.” The Devil looked behind him. The humans were suitably occupied and there wasn’t a nurse anywhere to be seen, so . . .Lucifer quietly pulled out his flask, tapped the second bag of medicine, and allowed it to drain into his flask. 

“And this one is Archimedes.” Trixie placed a blue owl on Dan’s chest. He was now covered in stuffed animals. 

“Thank you, Trixie. I won’t be lonely at all now.” The girl stepped closer and Dan kissed her head.

“When do you get to come home?”

“Hopefully tomorrow,” he assured her. “But I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Okay.” She nodded.

“Time’s up.” Nurse Stacey stopped back by to show them out.

Lucifer quickly tucked his flask away. “So it is. Come along, urchin, we . . . .” The Devil sighed deeply. “We have a Scout meeting to get to.”

“Bye, Daddy. I love you.” Trixie kissed Dan’s cheek before walking away.

“I love you, Monkey.” 

Lucifer gave Dan a curt smile and started to walk away, but to his surprise, the other man reached out and grabbed his hand. Lucifer looked back. For a man who’d just had major surgery, Dan looked super focused and determined. This was truly the most serious Lucifer had ever seen Detective Espinoza.

“When Trixie is with you, you are the responsible one. Do you understand me? You have to watch out for her.” He squeezed Lucifer’s hand with as much force as he could. “Do you understand me?” he asked again.

“Yes, Daniel,” Lucifer replied. He had no witty retort or remark. The sincerity of Detective Espinoza had caught him entirely off guard. 

Dan nodded and released the Devil’s hand. He leaned back in the bed. “Talk to you later, Monkey.”

“Bye, Daddy.” Trixie waved and then turned to leave.

“You may want to check that second bag,” Lucifer commented to Nurse Stacey as they left. “It seems to have a leak.”

As the two of them were making their way through the hospital’s parking garage, Lucifer’s phone rang. “It’s your other parent, urchin,” he reported as he answered. “Hello, Detective. You’ll be happy to know that the goodies have been delivered and Detective Dou – Espinoza has been properly comforted.”

“Great. Thank you so much. How did he look?” Chloe left her car in the church parking lot and hurried to the side door; dodging rain drops as she went. It had just started to rain, and the sky seemed to be committed to it. Detective Decker had wanted to get to the church earlier, so she could talk to their troop leader alone. But, as always, she’d gotten caught up at the station, and she’d driven to the wrong church first. Now it was 5:25. 

“He’s Dan, he looked pasty and sallow, but better than this morning,” Lucifer assured.

“How far away are you all?” Chloe wanted to know.

“Should be there in ten minutes, I’d say.”

“Perfect. But don’t speed, Lucifer,” Chloe hurried to add.

“Mom speeds all the time,” Trixie remarked as they climbed into the car.

Lucifer laughed. “Your urchin ratted you out, Detective.”

Chloe was about to say something else as she opened the door to the church and stepped into the fellowship hall. She saw the troop leader and the other parents and the girls. She also saw the table filled with snacks. “Shit,” Chloe commented and everyone in the room turned to look at her. Chloe flushed and held her hand up to excuse herself. She turned around so they couldn’t see her struggle further. 

“What’s wrong, Detective?”

“I forgot a snack.” She took a breath. “Is there anyway you can stop and pick something up on your way?”

“I’m not your personal delivery boy,” Lucifer huffed. Really, he thought asking him to deliver flowers to Dan’s bedside was the limit.

“I know, but it would be a huge help. Just stop at a store and grab anything, like Funyuns or pretzels. Wait.” Chloe snuck a look back at the table. “Not pretzels. They already have those. Just hurry. Thank you. I owe you.” Chloe hung up and pocketed her phone.

“Wait . . .” Lucifer gave his phone an incredulous look.

“Mom forgot a snack, didn’t she?” Trixie surmised.

“Yes, urchin, seems we have one more stop to make.”

Trixie didn’t seem too bothered by this. “I get to pick the music this time.” She reached for the radio and Lucifer pulled out his flask. He was about to take a big swig, but something stopped him. In that moment, he could hear Dan’s parting words echoing in his ears.

Not entirely sure why he was doing it, the Devil re-pocketed his flask. “It’ll taste better later,” he reasoned with himself. “Fine,” he told Trixie, “then I get to pick the snack.”

Chloe put her phone away and slowly approached the other parents. The girls were off in their own, adult free world. Most of them were chatting and goofing around, save for one girl, Velma, who was off by herself reading a book. “I hope it doesn’t rain like this tomorrow,” one of the parents commented to another.

“Supposed to rain all weekend.”

“Of course.”

“Do you think they’ll cancel the campout?” a third parent wanted to know.

The first parent scoffed. “If they don’t cancel it because of the murder, they’re not going to cancel it because of the weather.”

Chloe had planned to ease herself gently into the conversation, but that last remark had caught her off guard. “I’m sorry, how do you know about that?”

“You’re joking, right? It’s all over the news,” the first parent replied.

“Damn,” Chloe sighed. There would be another departmental meeting in their future regarding classified information. At least Lucifer wasn’t the culprit this time, at least she didn’t think so.

“Chloe,” Scout leader Gloria spoke up. “We weren’t expecting you.”

“Yeah, I know I haven’t been in a while, sorry, but I’m here now.”

“Where’s Trixie?” Gloria asked.

“And your snack?” the first parent, Valerie, commented.

Chloe gave her a sideways look. “My partner is bringing them both. We got held up with a case, which is what I wanted to talk to you about, Gloria” 

“Partner as in boyfriend?” Theresa whispered to Valerie.

“How should I know?” Valerie shrugged.

“Wasn’t she engaged?” Julia added to the conversation.

“Oh, yeah, to that one guy, Preston or something.” Valerie tried to remember.

“Pierce,” Theresa chimed in.

Chloe couldn’t believe this. She was standing right there. Did they think she couldn’t hear them? “Can I speak to you, privately?” she asked Gloria. The other woman nodded, and they took a few steps away from the group.

“Was there really a murder at Camp Wildbegone?” Gloria inquired, trying to keep her voice low so that the Scouts didn’t overhear. 

“I can’t discuss case specifics with you, but yes, it is currently a crime scene. And, given the circumstances, I don’t think we should go to the campout.” Chloe heard a noise and looked back. The rest of the parents had moved a step closer.

“Is the camp closed?” Gloria asked.

“I’m not sure. They were still discussing that at the station when I left. I should know soon, though.”

Gloria sighed. “Well, if you think it’s best . . .”

“Oh no,” Valerie spoke up, stepping into their conversation and space. “We worked too hard for this trip. We sold so many cookies to afford this.” She gave Chloe a look. “Well, some of us sold cookies.”

“I sell cookies!” Chloe objected. “The LAPD buys a lot of cookies.”

“Oh, please, we all know Dan sells the cookies at the station,” Valerie retorted.

“And the Scout Follies, we worked so hard on that show to raise money,” Julia added.

“Which you didn’t even come to.” Valerie pointed at Chloe.

“I . . .saw the video!” the Detective defended.

“I heard the crime took place at the old campground,” Theresa tossed out there. “They don’t include the old camp on anything. It’s off limits to the girls.”

“Exactly. And I heard the employee who did it has already been fired,” Valerie divulged. “Drug problem.”

Chloe was flabbergasted. “Wow. I cannot comment on the case, but that is so off base.”

At that moment, the side door to the church opened and in strolled the Devil with a deli tray. Everyone looked up. Trixie gave an excited squeal and ran off to join her friends. “Hey, Mom,” she shouted as she ran by.

“Holy, hell,” Gloria remarked as she watched Lucifer approach.

Chloe smirked. “You have no idea.”

Lucifer set the elaborate deli tray on the table amidst the pretzels, grapes, and fruit snacks. It was a piece of art with cheese and fruit and at least five different kinds of meat. “Sorry I’m late. Chef Antonio had to slice some fresh prosciutto, which costs extra, but I’ll believe you’ll find it was well worth it. He does make the best charcuterie boards in the city, and what is a proper charcuterie without prosciutto?” 

“Of course, he’s British,” Theresa sighed.

“It’s not fair,” Julia bemoaned.

Lucifer turned his attention to Chloe. “I did my best to get here posthaste, Detective, but you did send me on multiple errands, and it started to rain.” He took a breath. “This has not been my best evening.”

Chloe was exceptionally pleased to see him. She took his stubbled face between her hands and gave him a firm kiss. She mostly kissed him because she could now, and if it happened to make the other women around her jealous, then that was just an added bonus. “It’s getting better now,” Lucifer commented as they pulled apart. “Hello, Detective.”

“Thank you so much for bringing Trixie and for picking up a snack.” Chloe squeezed his arm, not ready to let go of him just yet.

“I’ve never seen this many types of cheese on one tray before,” Gloria spoke as she examined the charcuterie. 

Chloe turned her attention back to the group. “This is my par . . .boyfriend, this is my boyfriend Lucifer.” The Devil’s eyes grew wide for a moment and the two of them exchanged a look. That was a moniker he never thought he’d hear from her and not one she ever thought she’d use. 

“Yes, I am the Detective’s boyfriend.” Lucifer beamed.

“Are you a cop, too?” Theresa inquired.

“Civilian consultant.”

“Fascinating. What does that mean?” Valerie asked.

“When the regular police get stumped, they call on my expertise,” Lucifer explained.

Chloe shook her head. “No. Not at all.”

“What does he think we should do about the campout?” Julia looked at Detective Decker and the Devil expectantly. 

“What campout?” Lucifer directed his attention to the charcuterie, where Gloria was trying to fill her plate. “If I may? There is a proper order to this. Allow me to show you.” He took her plate and proceeded to eloquently fill it for her.

Chloe threw her hands up in the air. “I can’t believe we’re still discussing this.”

“You may give orders around the police station, Chloe, but that’s not how it works here,” Valerie enforced. “If the camp’s open, I say we go. I heard it was all sex related anyhow. Who knows, maybe it was some kinky accident? She had marks on her neck. Maybe it was autoerotic?” 

Lucifer passed Gloria her plate and shook his head. “No, these were fingerprints. Autoerotic marks are different. For that, you’ll want a belt or . . .”

“Lucifer!” Chloe shouted over him. “Can you give me a moment to talk with the other parents?”

“Of course, Detective.” Lucifer grabbed a hunk of cheese and stepped away.

“Or it could’ve been the ghost,” Julia pointed out.

“Would that really be better, Julia, if it was a murdering ghost?” Valerie scoffed.

“Did you all see that special they did on Ghost Hunters?” Theresa chimed in.

“That was a great episode,” Gloria agreed.

“I’m on chapter five in the book,” Theresa added.

“Six.” Gloria smiled.

Chloe took a deep breath. “I don’t know what’s weirder, that you want to send our kids to a camp with a potential murderer, or one with a spirit so malevolent, it kills people.”

“I didn’t actually mean it was the ghost, I was just joking,” Julia tried to amend.

“But we all know what happens when you have sex in horror movies,” Theresa reasoned. “Abstinence education is so important.”

“You all really believe in this ghost?” Chloe had spent most of this evening dumbfounded. She was starting to remember why she never came to these meetings.

“The ghost story is part of the fun, it doesn’t matter if it’s real or not,” Valerie argued.

“But it is real,” Julia enforced.

“My niece went there last summer, and she loved it,” Valerie added. “She said some spooky things happened, but that made the experience more memorable, brought the girls closer together. And you know they just renovated, so we’ll be the first ones in the new space.”

“They do have a really high safety rating,” Gloria reminded them.

“With two, glaring exceptions,” Chloe pointed out.

As the parents continued to discuss, Lucifer strolled absentmindedly around the room. He really didn’t like spending time in a church, and he wondered how long this meeting was going to last. He heard a noise behind him and turned around. There were five young girls standing there looking at him. “Ah!” He instantly jerked back.

“This is Lucifer.” Trixie introduced him.

“Oh, there are multiples of you, lovely.” Lucifer grimaced. The gaggle of girls sized the Devil up.

“You’re tall,” Helena observed.

“You’re short.”

“Where are you from?” Taylor asked.

“Duh, he’s from England, Taylor,” Georgia imparted with a roll of her eyes.

“I’m from Hell, actually,” Lucifer corrected. “Well, by way of the Silver City.”

“Why do you talk like that then?” Kesha wanted to know.

“Bit rude. Why do you talk like that? This is my favorite accent. What’s your excuse?”

“I like it,” Helena decided.

Lucifer gave a false smile. The girls kept standing there, staring at him. “What do you want?”

“I told them you were funny,” Trixie explained. “Tell us a joke.”

Lucifer straightened his cuffs. “Very well, then. I do have a funny one about your little campout.”

“Mom!” Trixie shouted a minute later and ran over to the Detective. “Are you canceling the campout?!”

Chloe shot eye daggers at Lucifer. “We haven’t decided yet, Monkey.”

“Don’t call me that. You can’t cancel. We’ve been talking about it for months, and we sold all those cookies, and Dad had to sew that outfit for the Follies, and I lost my favorite pair of earrings that night, and all the other troops have been there.” The other girls joined her in their objections. Soon the fellowship hall was filled with a cacophony of complaints. 

“Take a breath, Trixie. Take a breath, all of you,” Chloe spoke over them. 

Lucifer walked over to Velma, who was still sitting apart and reading. “Why are you over here and not over there with the rest of the small humans complaining?” 

Velma straightened her glasses and looked up from her book. “I’m reading my book, and I don’t care if we go camping or not.”

“Fair enough,” Lucifer replied and walked away. 

“All right, all Scouts to the kitchen to work on their camp skit,” Troop leader Gloria announced.

“Oh, does that mean we’re still going camping?” Taylor was hopeful.

“We’re not done discussing that,” Gloria informed them. “But whether we go to the campout or not, you’ll still perform the skit.”

The girls continued to grumble but headed off to the kitchen anyhow. “Velma, honey, everyone’s going to work on the skit,” Gloria told the other scout. Velma sighed, marked her place in her book, and slowly followed the group into the kitchen.

“You really want to deprive them of all that?” Valerie gave Chloe a look.

“If there’s a killer on the loose, yes.”

“Dan’s still planning to come with us, right? He’s a cop,” Theresa pointed out. “I’d feel safer having him with us.”

“Dan had his appendix removed this morning. He won’t be coming,” Chloe imparted.

“Oh, no, now I don’t feel as safe.” Theresa changed her mind.

Chloe huffed in frustration. What was she, chopped liver? Last time she checked, she was a cop, too. Before she could say anything else, her phone rang. It was Ella. “I have to take this. Decker,” Chloe answered the phone and stepped away. “You’re in trouble,” she told Lucifer as she passed him.

“Me? What did I do? I dropped off flowers for Dan and paid extra for Chef Antonio’s prosciutto.” Lucifer sighed. This whole relationship thing could be a mystery sometimes.

The Devil turned to see all the other moms looking at him. “You, uh, want to show us how to make a proper plate?” Julia asked as she handed him a plate. Lucifer gave a small smile and acquiesced. 

In the kitchen, Trixie hopped up and sat on the kitchen counter. The other girls gathered around her. “What are we going to do for the skit?” Georgia asked.

“I thought we were doing Peter Pan,” Kesha recalled.

“That’s a little kid’s story,” Helena pointed out.

They all fell silent as Velma entered the room. She hung her head and found a free corner to sit in and read. “Why did you have to bring her?” Taylor whispered to Georgia.

“She lives near us,” Georgia defended. “It wasn’t my idea.”

Trixie clapped her hands. “Guys, I have the perfect idea. What if we did our skit on palm reading?”

“Palm reading?” Kesha asked.

“Yeah, fortune telling,” Trixie expanded. “It’s perfect for Camp Wildbegone.”

“Kind of spooky, like Catherine Amis,” Georgia agreed.

“If you say her name three times into a mirror with your eyes closed, she’ll appear behind you,” Taylor divulged.

“We should do that at camp,” Helena squealed.

“What are our parts?” Georgia asked Trixie.

Trixie jumped down and walked to the middle of the kitchen. It was a larger, commercial style kitchen, so there was plenty of space. “I’ll be the director. And Taylor, you’ll be the fortune teller.”

“Yes!” The other girl was clearly pleased.

“And Kesha will be the lady having her fortune read. You hide a deep secret you’ve never told anyone.”

Kesha thought about it for a second. “Oh, I have a secret twin no one knows about!”

“Love it. Georgia can be your twin.” Trixie put the two of them together. 

“Twinsies.” Georgia gave Kesha a hug.

“Yeah, but you don’t like each other, at least not at first,” Trixie directed.

“Who am I?” Helena wanted to know.

“You are an angry spirit who’s come form beyond the grave with a dire warning,” Trixie divulged in a low and creepy tone.

“I love it. Why am I angry?”

Trixie shrugged. “We’ll figure it out.” She looked around the kitchen and spotted Velma “Hey, Velma, I have a part for you, too.”

Velma looked up, obviously shocked that someone had spoken to her. “Trixie,” Taylor whispered, very much displeased. 

“No, there’s a part for everyone in this skit,” Trixie assured. “Come on, Velma.”

Velma stood and put her book down. She cautiously but optimistically joined them. “You are the chair, Velma,” Trixie told her.

“The chair?” The other girl was confused. “What kind of part is that?”

“This is a play with fortune telling, anything can happen,” Trixie told her, a bit of whimsy dancing in her voice and in her eyes.

Velma decided she could live with this explanation. “Okay.”

Back out in the fellowship hall, Chloe paced as she listened to Ella talk over the phone. “I’m serious, Chloe, we’ve got nothing to go on. Their alibis all check out. The staff has spotless records. Believing in ghosts isn’t a crime. The only one with any sort of issues has since been fired.”

“I don’t think Jeremy killed Amber.”

“I don’t either,” Ella agreed, “but he is still the most suspicious person . . .living person.”

Chloe ran her hand across her face. “Have they decided to close the camp?”

Ella took a breath and gave a nervous laugh. “Yeah, ‘bout that. You know those new cars we got this year, the Chargers?”

“Yeah, what about them?” 

“Turns out the Amis Foundation paid for those, and they really don’t want the camp shut down, so the Chief thinks the best way to get to the bottom of this is to spend some time at the camp, see what’s really going on.”

Chloe stopped walking. “You’ve got to be kidding me?”

“’Fraid not.” Ella was silent for a moment. “Want me to put you on with the Chief?” 

Chloe sighed. “No, I know what he’ll say. I’ll call you later, Ella.” Detective Decker hung up and took a deep breath. Lucifer slowly approached her.

“What did Miss Lopez want?”

“Just catching me up on the case, a case in which we have no helpful clues and no real suspect. Oh, and the Chief thinks I should spend some time at the camp to ‘see what’s really going on.’”

“Oh, well, you already planned to go this weekend. I’d say that’s good news.” The Devil smiled, but Chloe did not return it.

“This is different, Lucifer. I’ve never done recon with my daughter present.” She took another breath. Chloe truly didn’t know what to do. “What would you do?” she asked the Devil.

“Why are you asking me?”

“Because your opinion matters to me.”

Lucifer looked touched. “Very well, Detective. I imagine that if the Chief feels it’s safe enough to allow small humans into the camp, it probably is. Also, I’m sure some concessions can be made to make you feel better, extra patrols, something like that. And I’ve borrowed your urchin more than once for recon. She’s very handy, especially when you need to get into a place where a small human is required.”

Chloe’s eyes lit up. “Lucifer, that’s it.” She kissed him again and returned to the other parents. 

“Is the camp closed?” Gloria asked.

“No, the campout is still on,” Chloe replied. 

“I don’t know if I want Georgia to go now,” Julia divulged. “All this talk about ghosts and murders. Maybe we should call it off?”

“I’ll talk to the camp,” Chloe assured. “I’ll tell them we’re bringing more chaperones. We’ll also have a patrol set up at the old campsite. We may have to amend some of our activities, but the campout is still on.”

“This is a democracy, so let’s vote,” Gloria decided. “Show of hands, who’s okay with still going on the campout with these additional safeguards?” All the moms raised their hands. “You will be going, right, Chloe?”

“Of course,” Chloe assured. Lucifer joined her at that moment. “Lucifer will be going, too. If that’s okay?” 

“What?” the Devil asked.

“Who’s okay with Lucifer going?” All the hands were in the air before Gloria could finish asking the question.

“Trixie, my legs are starting to hurt. How long do I have to stay like this?” Velma asked back in the kitchen. She’d been half squatting for a while now as they kept rehearsing the skit. She was still waiting for the chair to do something else.

“Just a little longer. We’re almost to your part,” Trixie assured. “Okay, now your twin bursts through the door.” 

Georgia made a dramatic action and Kesha gasped. “That’s right, I’m not dead, and I’m here to tell everyone!”

“What am I to do?!” Kesha bemoaned.

“Okay, now walk over to the chair, Georgia,” Trixie instructed. Georgia nodded and walked over to Velma. “Lean against it.” The other girl did, and Velma struggled to stay upright. “Say your next line.”

“I don’t care for this chair, just like I don’t care for you,” Georgia delivered her dialogue like it was her Academy Award acceptance speech.

“Now walk away from the chair,” Trixie added. Georgia moved away.

“What do I do?” Velma asked.

“Nothing. You’re a chair.”

The other girls laughed. At that moment, Chloe opened the door. “Good news, Scouts, the campout is still on.” They all cheered, save Velma, which the Detective noticed. “Come on out, and we’ll talk about it.” Taylor whispered something in Trixie’s ear and looked back at Velma. They both laughed as they left the room.

Velma was the last to leave after retrieving her book. “Hey, are you okay?” Chloe asked the girl.

“Yeah.” Velma straightened her glasses and walked on, but the Detective knew something wasn’t right.

After the meeting, Chloe and Trixie picked up take out and met back at Lucifer’s place. “Mom, do you think it’ll rain all weekend?” Trixie asked as they shook their wet clothes out in the elevator.

“I don’t know, Monkey. I hope not.” The door closed, shutting out the noise of the club which was just revving up for the night. Trixie peeked into the bag she was holding and pulled out a French fry. Chloe watched her daughter fondly. She was a good kid. Well, Chloe hoped she was. “Hey, Trixie, what were you all doing in the kitchen when I walked in back there?” she wanted to know.

“Rehearsing our skit. It’s gonna be amazing, but I can’t tell you anything else.”

“And everyone’s included, right?” Chloe pressed.

“Yeah,” Trixie replied.

“Okay.” Chloe decided to let it go for the moment.

As the elevator doors opened, Trixie ran straight to the bar and claimed her favorite stool. “Lucifer, we brought burgers and fries!” Chloe announced.

“Oh, good, you’re here.” Lucifer stepped out of his bedroom, two suits in hand. “Which one of these is better suited for a campout?”

“You’re wearing that to go camping?” Trixie cocked her head in confusion.

“I figured this color palette would complement the scenery,” Lucifer explained. 

“Lucifer, have you ever been camping?” Chloe inquired; her voice amused.

The Devil made a face of disgust. “Of course not, and I do it under protest now.”

Trixie laughed and Chloe couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, you’re gonna want to pack jeans.”

“Jeans?!” Lucifer was aghast. “I don’t even know if I have jeans.” The Devil disappeared back into his bedroom.

Chloe sat on the stool beside Trixie and began to sort out the food. “Hey, you’re okay, right, with Lucifer and your mom dating?” It just occurred to the Detective that she hadn’t been able to talk to her daughter about this new development in her life since they’d been discovered that morning. Man, a lot can happen in a day. 

Trixie nodded as she shoved another fry in her mouth. “Yeah. I like Lucifer, he’s funny.”

Chloe smiled. “Yeah, he is:”

“It’ll be cool to have him camping with us. If Dad can’t come, I’m glad Lucifer can,” Trixie decided.

Lucifer returned to the archway between his bedroom and the rest of the penthouse. “I have exactly one pair of jeans that I bought when I was desperate and trying to be more like Dan. Do you think this shirt will pair well with it?” He held up a silk shirt.

Trixie laughed again. “I’d suggest a t-shirt,” Chloe advised.

The Devil’s jaw dropped. “A t-shirt?! What kind of camp is this?” Lucifer continued to grumble as he disappeared for a second time. “What self-respecting man owns a t-shirt?!”

Trixie laughed even harder and Chloe joined her. Her daughter leaned into her side and Chloe stole one of her fries. There was still a murder to solve and she was still nervous about taking the Scouts to the camp, but moments like these made life a little easier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad you all are enjoying this story. I'm having a lot of fun writing it. I really appreciate your comments.
> 
> I have a busy week coming up with other projects, so it may be another week before I can update again. In the meantime, just hold tight.


	5. The Wheels on the Bus Go Straight to Hell

The following morning found Chloe, Trixie, and Lucifer back in the fellowship hall of New Salem Church. In some ways, it was like they’d never left. Trixie and her friends were playing and laughing as usual, with Velma sitting to the side reading her book. The other moms were conversing as usual, with Chloe hanging out on the sidelines. The rain was still pouring outside. The biggest change was probably Lucifer and his attire and his attitude. 

Last night in the penthouse, Chloe had told him he could not wear the t-shirt he’d had made of Dan’s face screaming on the roller coaster at that theme park. The Devil insisted it was the only t-shirt he owned. Chloe had then pointed to an entire drawer full of short sleeve shirts. “Wear an undershirt as the overshirt?!” Lucifer had gasped. So now, the Devil was sitting in the church moping because he had to wear jeans, a so-called undershirt, and his least favorite jacket. Oh, and don’t get him started on his shoes.

“I hate these shoes,” Lucifer commented again. 

Chloe rolled her eyes. “I know. You’ve been clear on that point.”

“The laces aren’t the right color or correct size. These are my emergency shoes. The shoes of last resort,” he continued on.

“I offered to stop by a store and buy you tennis shoes,” the Detective pointed out.

Lucifer gave her that look, the one he’d been giving her the past twelve hours, that look that made her feel like she was from another planet. “Why would I want to own tennis shoes? It’s bad enough I own the rest of this ensemble.”

“I think you look cute,” Chloe told him. And he did, in an endearingly mismatched kind of way. It was like when a four-year-old dresses themselves for school.

Lucifer sighed and looked back at the floor. “I feel like everyone is staring at my shoes.”

“No one is looking at your shoes!” she snapped. Chloe took a breath. She reached into her knapsack and handed him a piece of paper. “Think about something else. Here’s our schedule for the weekend.”

The Devil looked the sheet over. “Oh, a hike. People are going to see me walking in these shoes.”

Chloe fought the urge to rip the paper out of his hand. “But there’s also a campfire with s'mores.”

“Bird watching?! Ugh. And what is this, trust exercises?”

“Okay, you don’t have to make that face after each thing.”

“First aid and safety?!” Lucifer made that face again.

Chloe needed a breather. “You know what, you keep looking at that and I’m going to check on the buses.”

“A bus?!”

“I already told you about the bus!” Chloe hissed as she walked away.

“If it keeps raining like this, I’m sure they’ll cancel the hike,” Julia expressed as the Detective drew near.

“The hike, the bird watch, the campfire, you name it,” Valerie added.

“Do you think it’s a sign?” Theresa asked.

“Hey, Gloria, any word on what’s keeping the buses?” Chloe wanted to know.

“Oh, yeah, they’re running a bit behind. The driver said they got detoured around a wreck. It’s all this rain,” Gloria explained.

“It’s always the weather with this state,” Valerie complained. “If it’s not on fire, it’s flooding, or there’s an earthquake. I swear I’m going to move.”

“You’ve been saying that for the past ten years, Valerie,” Theresa called her bluff.

“Is Lucifer okay?” Gloria asked Chloe. “He keeps making these faces.”

Chloe looked back at the Devil. “Oh, yeah, he’s just a little grumpy. Didn’t get enough coffee this morning.”

“I hear that,” Julia chimed in.

“Good thing we’re taking two buses. That man of yours certainly doesn’t pack light,” Valerie observed.

And that was an understatement. Lucifer was sitting on top of his largest suitcase. He also had a carry on and a garment bag. “You do understand this is an overnight trip, right, as in one night?” Chloe had asked as they’d loaded up at Lux that morning before the drive over. In the end, she decided to let the luggage slide. She’d already won the jeans and t-shirt battle.

“Oh, you know, law enforcement, gotta be ready for anything,” Chloe attempted to explain. She nodded awkwardly and left the group to rejoin her partner.

“Reflective time? What is that?” Lucifer eyed her over the piece of paper.

“Okay, give me that.” Chloe took the schedule back and shoved it in her bag. “Lucifer, I know it seems weird to you, but I promise you a lot of people like to go camping. Some of my best memories are going camping with my dad when I was a kid, and Trixie and Dan and I used to campout all the time. I mean, there’s nothing better than being outside with the stars above you, snuggled up in a sleeping bag with someone you really care about.”

Lucifer’s eyes gleamed with interest. “I do like the sound of that.”

“Come to think of it,” Chloe recalled, “that might be how Trixie was conceived in the first place.”

Lucifer’s face fell. “And now you’ve ruined it.”

“No, listen.” Chloe knelt down and took the Devil’s hands in her own. “I’m really excited that I get to have this experience with you, okay? Even if it’s not a normal campout situation, and we’re technically working, it will be nice.” She smiled. “In fact, it’s kind of perfect it’s not a normal situation. I mean, when have we ever been normal?”

“As our dear friend Miss Lopez would say, ‘Boo normal.’” He leaned in and they kissed.

“Feeling better?” Chloe asked.

“A little. I’d be better if I weren’t wearing these shoes.”

Chloe sighed and stood back up. “Lucifer, I need you at your best, not constantly distracted by your footwear. There’s a lot at stake here.”

The Devil clasped his hands, not meeting her eyes. “I know. We’re the responsible ones.”

That caught Chloe off guard. She’d been expecting another shoe diatribe. “What?”

“When Trixie is with you, you’re the responsible one. That’s what Daniel told me yesterday at the hospital. Only it’s not just Trixie, there’s these other urchins and their parents.”

“Yeah, it’s a lot,” Chloe admitted.

“And then there’s you, and the expectations you have for this campout.” Lucifer pointed at her. “You know I always want to make you happy, Detective.”

“I know.” And Chloe did know, deep down in her very being.

“How do you do it?” the Devil wanted to know.

“Do what?”

“Juggle it all. Detective, mother, enforcer, protector, lover, ballbuster?”

“It’s a balancing act, and I don’t often achieve equilibrium,” Chloe confessed with a smile. “It’s part of being human.”

“Right.” Lucifer nodded and got quiet.

Chloe chewed on her bottom lip as she watched him. She gave Lucifer a lot of grief, and rightly so, for dropping celestial bombshells on her and expecting her to know how to handle them. But she needed to realize that sometimes human bombshells were just as difficult for him to handle.

“Hey.” Chloe took his hand back in hers. “You just be your usual, charming, truth seeking self this weekend, and if you happen to enjoy camping while doing so, that’ll be a bonus,” she assured him.

“I am intrigued by the prospect of arts and crafts time,” he admitted.

Chloe groaned. “Ugh, I’m no good at crafts.” She ran her thumb across Lucifer’s knuckles as they shared a laugh, followed by a moment of companionable silence.

“Dan really told you that?” The Detective asked at last. She’d spoken to her ex-husband several times since yesterday’s Scout meeting, but he hadn’t mentioned that particular conversation. Dan was very frustrated he couldn’t go with them this weekend, and he was more than a little perturbed Trixie was included in this recon operation, but he understood that Chloe didn’t have much of a choice. He also trusted Chloe to take care of Trixie and the rest of the Troop. 

“Yes, and I listened,” Lucifer assured her. “I didn’t even pack my flask. Well, not in my jacket. It’s in my bag, but it’s not within easy reach.”

The Detective’s heart did a little flip flop. “That’s the most romantic gesture you’ve ever made.”

“Buses are here!” Gloria announced from her perch near the window. “Everybody, load up!”

Trixie and her friends squealed in anticipation. They started to dance around in their excitement. This dance party migrated over to Lucifer, much to his annoyance. “Do you all have dancing sickness? Really, what is going on here?!”

“I don’t care if he doesn’t like kids, I’d still be all up on that,” Julia commented to Theresa as they headed for the door.

“I wouldn’t care if he ate them for breakfast,” Theresa added.

“He doesn’t do that. It’s just an old wives’ tale,” Chloe interjected before she could stop herself.

“What?” The other women were confused.

“Never mind.”

As the luggage was being loaded, Gloria did a final headcount before they boarded the two, small buses. “Okay, that’s twelve people, six kids and six adults. Claire and her mom are going to meet us at the campsite.”

This was news to Chloe. “Wait, the Martins are coming?”

“Angelique just texted me this morning. Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“That’s fine, these are just things I need to know,” the Detective reminded the Troop leader.

“You’re right, totally my fault,” Gloria apologized. “They are the only other people coming. And who knows, she might change her mind? It is Angelique, after all.”

“Yeah, she once made a plane turn around and go back to France because her croissant was stale,” Valerie remarked.

“Figures she’d have her private chauffer drop her off,” Julia added.

“Wait? That was an option?” Lucifer had just stepped in from the rain after he’d been asked to give the drivers a hand in loading the buses. To be fair, the biggest bags were his. The Devil gave Chloe a wounded look. “You told me that wasn’t an option.”

“It’s not,” the Detective enforced.

“All right, everybody, choose a bus. Hurry and get on,” Gloria instructed the Scouts.

“Let’s take the first bus and have it all to ourselves!” Trixie proclaimed.

“Yeah, no parents!” Kesha echoed.

“Nice try,” Chloe told them. “We’ll take that bus,” she informed Gloria. “Come on, Lucifer.”

“Come on to the private car that’s going to drive us?” The Devil wasn’t over that yet.

“Just get on the bus.” The Detective rolled her eyes and shoved her partner in front of her.

As the two groups broke apart, Velma headed off with the other adults for the second bus. Chloe noticed this and stopped. “Velma, do you want to ride on this bus with the other Scouts?”

Velma shook her head. “No, I like the looks of this bus better, and Ms. Gloria has my asthma medication.”

“I can sit on that bus, too, Velma,” Gloria offered.

Velma was undeterred. “No, it’s okay.”

Chloe caught hold of her daughter. “Hey, Trixie, why don’t you invite Velma to come ride with you all?” 

Trixie looked back at her fellow scout. “She said she likes that bus better.” Taylor took Trixie’s arm and the two of them skipped off for the first bus, screaming as they ran through the rain.

Lucifer gave Chloe a desperate look from the steps of the bus. “You are getting on this contraption, right?”

“Yes,” she assured him. The Detective let the Velma situation be for the time being, but she was going to have to have a talk with her daughter at some point. She supposed there’d be a natural break in the camp activities and her recon operation to do that. Man, Lucifer was right, it was a lot to juggle.

The Detective sat down next to her partner at the back of the bus. “Have a seat, girls” she instructed the group and they listened, even though their noise level stayed at a fever pitch.

“Seriously, who is this arriving in a private car, and how do we get them to drive us back in it?” the Devil wanted to know.

Chloe made a face. She really didn’t want to think about that. This weekend was going to be hard enough, and now this news. “Ugh, Angelique Martin and her daughter Claire. They are - a piece of work. The Martins have way more money than sense. I can’t believe they’re coming to this.”

“Oh, we should get along swimmingly,” Lucifer surmised. “Never fear, Detective, I’ve got the ride home covered.”

Chloe rolled her eyes, but decided she’d cross that bridge when she came to it. She pulled the case file out of her knapsack and began to look it over, trying to get another once over of the information before they reached Camp Wildbegone.

Lucifer watched her for a moment. “Anything you want me to know before we get there?”

Chloe looked at him. Was he actually preparing for this case? Wow, he really was taking this seriously. “No, just, keep your eyes open like you always do. And don’t be reckless,” Chloe added. 

“Understood. I shall remain a calm and collected devil.”

No, there was one more thing she needed to say. “And don’t ride Krenshaw too hard, okay? I know you think he did it, but we can’t focus solely on him.”

“Oh, I don’t think he did it anymore,” Lucifer divulged. “He’s still creepy, yes, and he smells funny, like mothballs, but I don’t think he’s a murderer.”

“What changed your mind?”

“His terrible, heaving sobs when we questioned him. And after that, every time we saw him, the man was still weeping. It was just sad,” Lucifer concluded, “but still creepy.”

Chloe smiled in spite of herself. Lucifer looked out the window at the falling rain. The Detective set her file aside. They were so close on the seat, their legs almost touching, and there wasn’t an ounce of awkwardness between them, not anymore. “Hey, this is nice,” Chloe spoke as she leaned into his side.

“What is?” The Devil turned back to her.

“Being in the back of this bus with you.” She placed her hand on his knee and squeezed. “Lots of dirty deeds happen at the back of the bus.”

Lucifer’s eyes lit up. “Do tell.”

At that moment, the girls’ ongoing discussion morphed into a song. “Baby shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo. Baby shark, doo doo doo doo doo doo.”

Lucifer looked up. “What is happening?”

Chloe laughed. “A good, old fashioned camp singalong.”

“But we’re not at the camp yet,” Lucifer protested.

“It usually starts on the bus.” The Detective shrugged. She was glad the girls were having a good time. It did a lot to calm her nerves as they sped towards the rest of the weekend.

Lucifer leaned back in his seat, a perpetual look of disgust on his face. “I’m dead, right?”

“What?”

“I’ve died. Lux imploded or something and I’m back in hell. That is the only explanation for this.”

“Oh, come on.” Chloe nudged him. “It’s not that bad.”

“No, this is worse,” Lucifer continued. “This is premium hell loop fodder. If I ever have to go back, I’ll have some recommendations for new torture.”

“Would you prefer they sing ‘The Wheels on the Bus’?”

“The wheels on this bus go straight to hell,” Lucifer griped.

“Oh, such a grumpy devil.” Chloe leaned her head on his shoulder.

The girls stopped singing for a second, took a breath, and then started the same song over again. “No!” Lucifer complained. “Why is it starting over?!”


	6. Mystery Inc. Reporting for Duty

“We’re here! We’re here!” The cry resounded trough the bus. The equivalent to “land ho” came a soggy, song-filled hour later, and the girls started jumping up and down in their seats.

“Don’t they take naps?” Lucifer wanted to know.

Chloe ignored him and stood. “All right, everyone, sit tight. I’ve got to check in first, and then you’ll get off the bus.”

“We have time for one more song!” Helena crowed and they all started to sing again.

Lucifer popped up and was hot on Chloe’s heels as she made her way to the front. “Move faster,” he told her.

“Lucifer, I have to wait for the bus to stop.”

The bus pulled up outside the main building. Fortunately, it had a covered walkway they could unload under. Once the brakes were finally applied, the Devil was the first one off. “You’re on your own, bus driver man,” Lucifer shouted back. The bus driver sighed and rested his head on the steering wheel.

Brad Jenson and the rest of his staff were waiting expectantly under the porch, but Chloe was looking for someone else at the moment. “Officer Scooby Doo reporting for duty,” Officer Wilkes spoke from beside her. Chloe jerked a little, in spite of herself. “Sorry, did I scare you?”

“Nope.”

“Didn’t want you to think I was a ghost, or anything.” He smiled. Officer Wilkes was eating this up.

“Har har.” Chloe was less than amused. “Where’s Corcuza? I thought she was working with you?”

“She got called way for that big wreck. Right now, it’s just me.”

“Oh, Wilkes, lovely to see you,” Lucifer spoke as he joined them. “Of course, anything is lovely compared to that bus ride.”

“Aw, look at us, Mystery Inc. reporting for duty,” Wilkes quipped.

“Beg pardon? Is that our code name?” The Devil was confused.

“No, he thinks he’s funny.” Chloe folded her arms across her chest. “You got it all out of your system?”

Wilkes took a deep breath. “Yeah. Here’s a radio. I’m on Channel One.”

Chloe took the walkie talkie from him. “Great. And remember, we can’t rely on cellphones here, radio only. I want you to check in every hour, understood?”

“Yes, Detective.”

“And let me know when Corcuza gets here.”

The younger officer smiled again. He really couldn’t help himself. “Yeah, I’ll let you know when Scrappy Doo arrives.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “This is serious, Wilkes.”

“I know. I’ll head on over to the old campsite and look for g-g-ghosts.”

“Living people, we’re looking for living people,” Chloe enforced. “Capable of murder.”

“Yes, and if the gardener approaches you, apparently he’s supposed to smell that way,” Lucifer imparted.

“Have fun over here, Fred and Daphne,” Wilkes commented.

“Yes?” Daphne asked from the porch.

“Do you need us?” Fred wanted to know.

Wilkes burst out laughing. “Okay, I’m really going now.” He started to leave but then turned back. “Just one more. Jinkies!” With that, he ran off before Chloe could hit him.

The Detective squeezed the bridge of her nose in frustration and tried to take a calming breath. “Congratulations, Lucifer, you’re the second most mature member of the LAPD working this case.”

“Oh, I’ll be employee of the month before you know it.”

A few minutes later, the rest of the Troop and all their luggage had been unloaded, and the buses were on their merry way home. The group was gathered just inside the main building. “Welcome to Camp Wildbegone!” Brad announced. “I’m Camp Director Jenson, and I hope you all are ready for an exciting weekend.”

Lucifer let his attention wander as the director droned on. He wasn’t really looking at anything, just sort of staring at the nearest wall, wishing he had his flask, when a small voice spoke quietly but clearly, “Your shoelaces don’t match your shoes. They’re too big.” The Devil’s jaw dropped, and he looked back at the Scouts. Who had said that? Who had dared?

“Anyone have any questions?” Brad asked.

Lucifer instantly raised his hand. “Not a question, Brad, more of a statement. I don’t know who made that comment about my shoes, but it was rude and uncalled for. I know my laces and these dress boots don’t marry well. I am aware, all right?”

Brad was silent for a second. “Okay, any actual questions?”

Chloe stared at Lucifer. “Who said anything about your shoes?”

“One of these small humans said my laces don’t match.”

“Lucifer, no one said that.”

The Devil scoffed. “Of course, you’d take their side.”

“Okay.” Chloe sighed and let it go. She’d hoped her partner had turned a new leaf on the bus and had checked his crazy at the door, but no such luck.

“I, uh, see we’re supposed to have two others with us?” Brad looked at the tablet he was holding. “Is that right?”

Head counselor Sarah Barnes consulted her own tablet. “Yeah, that’s right.”

“Angelique and Claire?” Brad asked.

“We don’t know if they’re really coming,” Gloria started to say as the doors opened and in strolled the Martins.

“Sorry, our driver got a bit lost in the rain.” Angelique removed her large, designer hat and shook it out. “Take this for me, would you, love?” She handed the dripping chapeau to Daphne.

“Here we go,” Valerie whispered to the other parents.

“Boy, could you get our luggage for us?” Angelique looked expectantly at Fred. The young counselor looked at his boss, who nodded. With a grumble, Fred headed outside.

“Did we miss anything?” Angelique wanted to know.

“No, we were just getting started.” Brad set his tablet down. “In fact, we have a surprise for you all.” He nodded to Sarah and they stepped around they disappeared around the corner.

The Detective tried to keep an eye on them. “Chloe, I haven’t seen you in ages,” Angelique commented. “How’s Dan doing?”

“They’re divorced,” Valerie interjected before Chloe could say anything.

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Angelique feigned compassion.

“Angelique, how are you?” Theresa stepped in to join them.

“Yeah, where have you been?” Julia asked.

Angelique chortled as she removed her leather gloves. “Girls, the question is, where haven’t I been?” They all laughed, a little too loud, and way too forced.

Julia edged Chloe out of the way. Detective Decker scoffed to her partner. “Unbelievable. I’m still the odd parent out.”

“Do I detect a hint of jealousy, my dear Detective?”

“No.” Chloe shook her head and looked back at the corner Brad and Sarah had disappeared behind. “I’m going to see what they’re doing.”

As she passed the Scouts, she overheard Claire filling the other girls in on all the places she’d been. “We went to France and then we were in Germany for a week. I got a stomach bug in Prague.” Chloe rolled her eyes. Like mother like daughter.

Chloe was about to turn the corner when she bumped into Brad and Sarah on their way back. “Oh, sorry, Detective.”

“What were you all doing?”

“Something that will make you feel even better,” Brad assured her. “As promised, here’s the surprise,” he told the larger group.

“Magic, camp bands!” Sarah announced.

“We just got them this week. You all are the first group to have these,” Brad continued.

“What do they do?” Georgia asked.

Brad pulled one of the green, glowing bands out of the case in his hand. It looked like a cross between a glow bracelet and a smart watch. “They make your camp experience even better.”

“How?” Kesha wanted to know.

“By making sure we’re all where we need to be.” Brad slid one of the bands onto Taylor’s wrist. “We thought you’d really appreciate this, Detective.”

“How does it work?” Chloe watched as the staff shared the bands with the rest of the group.

“That’s the really cool part, these keep track of your body temperature so that we can see where you are in the camp at all times.” Brad held up his tablet. “We can check where you are using this program. See.” Once all the bands were on, the group showed up as glowing dots on the screen. “This tells me we’re all in the lobby.”

Chloe looked at Sarah’s tablet expectantly and the head counselor passed it over. As she did so, Chloe noticed the faded scar across her left wrist. The Detective didn’t say anything, but Sarah followed her line of site. “The program has its own transmitter that can be, uh, hardwired to our computer system, in case the Internet goes out,” Sarah explained.

“Impressive, and a little Orwellian,” Chloe remarked, but it did make her feel better. She closed out the program on the tablet to see what else was on there. Besides the program, there was only one other app that contained the day’s schedule.

“The band program takes up a lot of space,” Sarah imparted.

Chloe nodded and handed the tablet back. “Thanks.”

“We’ve got an extra band left,” Daphne told Brad. All of the girls and the parents, save Chloe, had one.

“Give it to Lucifer,” the Detective spoke up.

“Me?” Lucifer sighed. “Very well, I’m already wearing the rest of this.”

“Way to be a good sport.” Chloe clapped him on the back.

The second the Devil got the band on, it shorted out and stopped glowing. “Oh, this one’s got a problem.” Daphne took his hand to get the band back and paused. “You feel warm.” The counselor reached up and touched his forehead. “Do you have a fever? I can take you to the infirmary.”

“He’s fine,” Chloe assured the counselor. She helped Lucifer get the band off and handed it back.

“Geez, you spend that much money, you think you’d get a quality product,” Daphne commented as she returned the fried band to Brad.

“There’s always one, right?” Brad replied through clinched teeth. “Thank you, Counselor Daphne.”

“Now I know why you don’t own a smart watch,” Chloe whispered to her partner.

“I don’t own one because they’re heinous, but this is a valid, second reason.”

“Can we order a pizza on this?” Trixie asked and most of the other girls laughed.

“Afraid not,” Sarah replied.

“By our magic band powers combined.” Trixie held her band out to Taylor. They bumped their bands together and laughed.

“Who’s ready to pick their bunks for the night?” Sarah wanted to know. She was greeted by a round of cheers. The head counselor led the way to the first bunk room.

“Angelique, I need to talk to you.” Chloe stopped the other mother before she could get away.

“Oh, Chloe Decker, what are the odds, the two of us here together at the same function? Can you believe it?” Angelique gripped Chloe’s arm in a dramatic gesture.

“No, actually.” Chloe eased her arm out of the other woman’s grip. “Did Gloria tell you about the weekend and what’s going on here?”

“Oh, Gloria is always sending us emails. I never read them. Who has the time for that?” She directed her attention to Lucifer. “Hello, who are you? I noticed you the moment I walked in,” Angelique purred.

“This is Lucifer Morningstar, my partner, and my boyfriend,” Chloe told her.

“Hello.” Lucifer held out his hand.

“You’re kidding?” Angelique was dumbfounded as she shook his hand. “Mr. Morningstar, I love your club.”

“Well, it’s under new ownership now, frees me up for my work with the LAPD.”

“And you and Chloe are . . .dating?”

Lucifer’s eyes lit up in recognition. “Hang on, Angelique Martin? Now that I put a name to your face, I know who you are. I know your ex-husband.”

Angelique laughed. “Which one?”

“Christopher Martin, your latest,” Lucifer divulged.

Angelique was confused. “Chris is dead.”

“I know, but he talks about you all the time.”

Angelique gave him an odd look and walked off. Chloe squeezed Lucifer’s arm. “Thank you for that.”

“My pleasure.”

In the Scouts’ bunk room, the girls were busy picking their beds. There were so many to choose from. “Taylor, let’s take this one!” Trixie told her friend as she dropped her backpack on a lower bunk.

Taylor started to join her, but then Claire spoke up. “Taylor, do you want to see the dresses I packed?”

“You packed a dress?” Taylor stopped what she was doing and joined Claire.

“Yeah. A girl's gotta look her best, right? I brought a lot of clothes.” Claire threw open the lid to her suitcase and Taylor gasped. Soon all the girls, save Trixie and Velma, were over at her bed.

“Wow, look at this one!” Helena pulled out a sparkly shirt.

“Wanna try it on?”

Helena’s face lit up. “Can I?”

“Of course. I have stuff in here that would fit everybody, well, most everybody.” Claire gave Trixie a look.

“Hey, maybe Claire can do costumes for our skit?” Kesha proposed. She looked back at Trixie, who slowly walked up to join them.

“Yeah, that’d be a perfect role for Claire,” Trixie agreed, finding her confidence once more.

“Oh, what’s the skit about?” Claire wanted to know.

“I’m a fortune teller,” Taylor imparted.

“Yeah, and I’m a ghost,” Helena added.

Claire looked at her suitcase. “I don’t think I have any clothes for that. Maybe we could do a fashion show instead?”

“Yeah, a fashion show would be fun,” Georgia gushed.

“But we already have a skit,” Trixie pointed out.

“Maybe we can combine them?” Taylor reasoned.

“Look at this shirt!” Helena did a twirl as she tried out the garment.

“Yeah, we have time to work on the skit later,” Trixie spoke, like it was no big deal. She turned to go back to the bunk she’d picked. “Taylor, we’re over here.”

Taylor looked at Claire. “I think I’m gonna bunk over here with Claire.”

“Oh, okay.” Trixie turned her attention to unpacking her backpack.

“I can bunk with you, Trixie, so you won’t be alone,” Velma quietly offered.

“I’m not a scaredy cat, Velma. It’s one night. Geez,” Trixie shot back. Velma nodded and walked off to the other side of the room. Trixie looked in her bag to see her mom had packed her favorite stuffed animal. She shoved the stuffed dinosaur down further in the bag and sat down in a huff.

The girls were in the first bunk room and the parents had been safely stowed in the second room. But what about Chloe and Lucifer? “We worked up something special for the two of you,” Fred told them as he they walked down the hall.

“Oh, I like the sound of that,” Lucifer commented. “You know, Detective, when you said camping, I thought we’d be out in a tiny shack somewhere, but this is quite pleasant, actually.”

And the Devil was right, it was a really nice building. Chloe could only imagine how much all of these renovations had cost. There wasn’t much that was rustic anymore about Camp Wildbegone. “This isn’t really representative of camping,” the Detective countered.

“You cannot dissuade me.”

Fred stopped outside a door. “Okay, this is you guys.” He opened the door and Lucifer’s face instantly fell.

“This is a closet.”

“Uh, yeah. Used to be an office, but that didn’t work out, so we turned it into the activities closet. First thing Daphne and I did when we got to camp was organize this thing. But then we heard you all were coming, so we shoved all the stuff over there. Oh, and check it out.” Fred sounded genuinely pleased with himself as he gave the grand tour. “You’ve got a phone in here, in case you need to call out for your detective stuff, and there’s a plug in for the Internet.”

“How does that work with my smartphone?” Chloe gave him a look.

“I don’t know, you might have a fancy cop phone or something?”

Chloe gave a wry smile. “Thank you, Fred.”

The counselor’s return smile was genuine. “Don’t mention it. Funtivities in five minutes, okay?” he chirped as he left.

Lucifer pulled his luggage with him into the room. There were two cots in the mostly cleared off space on the floor. “There are two cots in the closet.”

“Go ahead and say it,” Chloe sighed. “This is like being back in hell.”

Lucifer shook his head. “The closets in hell are much larger.” He smiled and she gave him a playful shove.

“All right, I know it’s not ideal, but it’s only one night.”

Lucifer looked at the shelves overflowing with athletic equipment. He picked up a ping pong paddle. “Maybe we can have a little fun with this later?”

“Down, devil.” Chloe took the paddle from him and put it back. “I’m going to check on everyone else.”

“Fine. I’ll just be here, unpacking in the closet.” Chloe rolled her eyes and walked out.

The Devil closed the door behind her to get the full sense of the room. “Yeah, the closets in hell are bigger.” He took his phone out and started to take pictures. “The demons will need a visual for reference.”

As Chloe walked down the hall back towards the bunk rooms, a door to her right slowly creaked opened. The Detective froze in her tracks, waiting for someone to come out of the room, but nobody did. “Hello?” There was no answer. Chloe put her hand on her gun and approached the room. The door said Library. Chloe took her gun out and slowly edged her way into the room. There was no one in there. Also, this room seemed way out of place with the rest of the camp. For some reason, it was still the 1920's on the other side of this door.

“Weird,” Chloe commented as she holstered her gun and closed the door.

“I see you found the library,” Sarah spoke, and Chloe stifled a scream. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t.” Chloe took a breath. “Why, uh, why is that room so different?”

“Another of George Amis’ quirks. He said if the library was ever moved, it had to be an exact replica of the library Catherine spent her time in. Lots of weird things happen in there. The Ghost Hunters called it a hot spot,” Sarah explained.

“Right.” Chloe nodded and started to walk away, but Sarah held her there.

“Detective, I wanted to talk to you. I know you saw my scar earlier, and I want to explain it to you.”

Chloe held up her hands. “Sarah, that’s none of my business.”

“No, it is because you’re a mom, and you’re entrusting me with your kid. I, uh, had a hard time when I was younger, really struggled, but I’m better now. Like I said, Camp Wildbegeone pulled me out of a dark spot when I was 14. This place means a lot to me. I would never let anything happen to it.”

“Thank you for telling me that.”

Sarah took a breath and looked at her tablet. “I think it’s time to gather the girls for funtivities.”

The head counselor walked away, and Chloe felt a pang in her heart. Fourteen? That was only three years older than Trixie was now. The Detective had an overwhelming urge to go and check on her daughter.

Back in the closet, Lucifer had decided there was simply no place to put all his luggage. “Of course,” the Devil sighed. He was over this room. He reached to turn the knob, but the door was locked. Lucifer pulled on the knob again, but nothing changed. On his third attempt, the door opened slightly, but then it was like the door was pulled from the other side and the knob jerked out of his hand. Lucifer was two seconds from kicking the whole thing down. He attempted a calming breath and gave the knob one more try.

The door opened this time and there was Mr. Krenshaw, standing on the other side, reaching for the knob. Lucifer screamed and the older man screamed back. “What are you doing here?!” the Devil wanted to know.

“What are you doing here?” the groundskeeper shot back. “This is the supply closet.”

“Not tonight!” Lucifer pointed to the cots on the floor.

“Oh, that’s right, they moved my gopher killer down the hall,” Kresnshaw recalled.

“Lovely, now get out of my way.”

Krenshaw rounded on the Devil. “You best watch yourself. Miss Catherine walks these halls. That’s her favorite room, right there.” He pointed down the hall to the Library. “She’ll be by soon, I imagine, if she’s not already in there.”

An awkward pause passed between them. “Thank you,” Lucifer spoke at last. “Off you pop.”

Krenshaw waved his hand and muttered as he walked off. “So disconcerting,” Lucifer commented as the man left. The Devil pulled his phone out and began to type. “Hell note two hundred and forty-one, creepy gardener, must smell of damp and have one eye significantly larger than the other.”

Suddenly, there was a loud, annoying alarm. Daphne appeared in the hallway with a bullhorn. “All right, who’s ready for some funtivities?” The girls and parents left their respective bunk rooms. Chloe was with Trixie, much to her daughter’s chagrin. They all seemed to be heading to the dining room.

Lucifer sighed and decided to join the fray. “Funtivities? Hell note two hundred and forty-two,” he continued to type. His shoelace snagged a loose nail on the way and held fast. Lucifer stumbled a little. “Damn.” He put his phone away and reached down to fix his shoe.

“Told you,” a small voice commented.

“Yes, I know!” Lucifer snapped and looked up. He was the only one still in the hall.


	7. The Truth Will Out During Arts and Crafts

“One of these small humans is a ventriloquist,” Lucifer told Chloe as he joined her in the dining room.

Detective Decker stared at him. She had never expected those words to come out of his mouth, and Lucifer had said a lot of outlandish things. “What?”

“One of them insulted my shoes, again, but this time they did it by throwing their voice,” Lucifer explained. “I wonder which one of these wee vermin it was?” He eyed the Scouts, sizing them up. “I have news for them. No one likes a ventriloquist in hell, especially not a rude one.”

“Okay.” Chloe had finally found her voice. “Fist of all, we don’t call the children vermin. Second, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Lucifer huffed and tried to explain again, but the Detective stopped him. “Lucifer, let’s put a pin in that for now, okay? We have other things to worry about.”

“Taking their side, again,” Lucifer grumbled but fell silent.

The staff had instructed the Scouts and the parents to sit in a circle in the room. “For this first funtivitiy, we’re going to get to know each other a little better,” Sarah shared. “You all know each other, but you don’t know us, and we’d like to get to know you all better, too. But first, our director Brad wants to tell you about another friend who’s here with us this weekend.”

Brad stepped forward and took Sarah’s place. “Thank you, Sarah. Scouts, there’s a very special person I want to introduce you to. You can’t see her, but she goes to camp here, too. I’m talking about Catherine Amis who was a camper here one hundred years ago.”

There was a scattering of murmured comments around the circle. “While you’re here, it’s important that you not only respect these grounds, the staff, and your fellow campers, but it’s important that you respect Catherine’s memory, too. Now, you may hear and see some weird things while you’re at Camp Wildbegone, but don’t be afraid, okay? That’s just Catherine’s way of saying hello.”

Chloe pursed her lips and leaned into Lucifer. “This whole ghost thing, it’s poppycock, right?” She was pretty certain she knew his answer. He hadn’t made it a secret or anything, but she hadn’t asked him directly, and he did have a wealth of worldly and otherworldly knowledge. 

Lucifer looked at her. “Am I allowed to speak now?”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “No one told you you couldn’t speak. I just didn’t want to hear about your shoes anymore.”

Lucifer huffed again. “Fine. And yes, it’s poppycock, as you so delicately put it. When you die, you’re dead. Your soul doesn’t hang around the earth. It goes one of two places.” Lucifer pointed up and then down. “Purgatory is a purely human concept created to help assuage guilt. Dante had quite the gambling problem.”

“That’s what I thought. Well, I thought some of that,” Chloe amended. She tuned back into the larger conversation and Brad was still going on about Catherine. “Why do they play Catherine’s story up so much, then?”

“Fear sells,” Lucifer surmised. “Ask the Catholic Church. Ask Dante.”

“Miss Catherine is always with us,” Krenshaw spoke up from the back of the room. He was suddenly next to Lucifer’s side and the Devil jerked. “Respect her and she’ll respect you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Krenshaw,” Brad sighed.

“Where did you come from?” Lucifer wanted to know. Seriously, it was like Krenshaw had materialized out of thin air.

“I’m always watching, too,” Krenshaw assured him. He gave Lucifer another look before shuffling off with his mop.

“I’ve changed my mind again, he did it,” Lucifer told Chloe.

“All right.” Brad clapped his hands to clear the air. “Sarah, how ‘bout you get up here and explain our first game.”

Sarah stepped forward. She was now holding a large, soft ball. “This game is called the ABCs of You. We toss the ball around the circle and when you catch it, you share a piece of information about yourself that starts with a letter in the alphabet, like this. The letter s A.” She tossed the ball to Fred.

“My name is Fred and I actually played the accordion in middle school.”

Lucifer burst out laughing. “Oh, you’re not joking?”

Sarah took the ball back from Fred. “No, the point of this game is to be honest. Say your name and then share a fact about you that starts with the letter you’re given. Fred got the letter A, so he told us about his accordion. Got it?” They all nodded, and Sarah tossed the ball to Claire to kick things off. “Claire, your letter is V.”

“V?” Claire was quiet for a second. “Oh, I know! My name is Claire and I own a pair of ruby earrings that my Mom bought me in Vienna.”

“Now pass the ball to someone else and give them a letter,” Sarah instructed.

“Your letter is M,” Claire told Taylor as she passed the ball to her.

Lucifer pulled out his phone and started to type. Chloe looked over to see what he was doing. “Hell notes, what are those?”

“Notes I’m sending back to hell on ways to make it worse,” the Devil informed her.

“Okay, put that away. We need to pay attention.”

“To what, this?” Lucifer gestured to the circle they were standing on the outskirts of.

“Yes,” Chloe hissed. Trixie looked back at them and Chloe waved at her. Trixie made a face as if to say, please stop embarrassing me, and looked away.

Lucifer had caught that. “I’ve seen you make that face at me before.”

Chloe sighed. “I’m trying not to hover, but it’s hard when it’s literally my job.”

“Yes, it is hard not to do something when it’s your job,” Lucifer emphasized. He gave a pointed look from his phone to Chloe.

“Fine, go ahead and make your hell notes,” she whispered. The Detective kept her eyes on her daughter for another moment. “Just try and spend some time with Trixie this weekend, okay?”

“Why? I think the urchin and I spend an adequate amount of time together,” Lucifer replied, not looking up from his phone.

Chloe was about to respond when Georgia passed the ball to Trixie. “My name is Trixie and my favorite pizza topping is pineapple.” The younger Decker looked around the circle, trying to decide who to pass it to. She smiled and Chloe recognized that look. “Heads up, Lucifer!” she shouted and tossed the ball through the air. “Your letter is D,” she called as it was in the air.

Before Lucifer could even attempt to catch it, Chloe intercepted and knocked the ball away. It landed in Velma’s lap. “Mom!” Trixie protested.

“What? Is this not that kind of game?” Chloe tried to shrug it off.

“No.” Sarah shook her head.

“Velma, go ahead,” Chloe instructed. “I think your letter was D.”

Finally, the ball had made its way all around the circle, and the Devil had even gotten a turn. He’d regaled them all with the things he liked best about Zanzibar. As Fred took the ball away, Sarah moved on to the next funtivity. “We have a bit of a change in the schedule, Scouts. Unfortunately, we can’t go hiking right now because of the rain.” She indicated the nearest window. The rain was still coming down outside in a steady torrent. There were audible groans and some audible cheers. “But, don’t worry, we have a rain plan. What will we be doing, counselor Daphne?”

Daphne stepped forward holding a small, denim bag and something shiny. “How many of you know that Camp Wildbegone started as a mining camp?” Velma raised her hand and then lowered it quickly when she saw no one else had. “That’s right, Velma. People used to mine for gold here. We don’t have any real gold with us, but we have these shiny rhinestones, and these denim bags, and several Bedazzlers! And, if someone’s feeling really adventurous, they can tackle this denim jacket.” Fred held up the jacket. It was clearly meant for a younger person. “But let’s start with these bags first. Everybody grab a spot at the crafting table,” Daphne instructed.

There was an eruption of noise as the Scouts and parents left the circle behind for the designated table. “I suppose this is another hell note in your books,” Chloe told Lucifer. The Devil had actually put away his phone and was moving to join the group. “Where are you going?”

“I’m paying attention and getting involved. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Yeah, but we don’t have to participate in all the crafts,” Chloe pointed out. 

“Oh, Detective, thou dost protest too much.” Lucifer took her arm and led them to the craft table.

Forty-five minutes later, Chloe remembered all too well why she hated arts and crafts. Her bag was barely bedazzled. Why couldn’t she get any of those stupid gemstones to stick? Also, she had somehow ripped the fabric. Chloe looked up to see Lucifer putting the finishing touches on the jacket. He had attracted quite the crowd. 

Lucifer held his breath as he set the final stone and pulled the jacket’s sleeve slowly out of the Bedazzler machine. “I think that does it,” the Devil spoke as he held up the jacket. It was beautiful, emblazoned with crimson, gold, and silver rhinestones in a pattern that evoked the waves on the shore of the beach as the sun was setting. Everyone clapped and Chloe placed her arms over her bag, trying to hide it. 

“Wow, Lucifer, that’s so cool,” Trixie gushed. The younger Decker had made a cute heart on her bag. Chloe huffed; everyone was good at this except her. 

“It’d be better if it were actual rubies, diamonds, and citrine, but I did my best with the materials at hand.”

“I think it’s beautiful,” Trixie remarked.

“It’s yours, urchin.” Lucifer offered the jacket to her. 

“Really?!” Trixie eagerly took the garment from him and put it on. 

“Your man has all the skills, Chloe,” Angelique commented, and the Detective gave a weak smile. She was touched, truly, that Lucifer had given the jacket to Trixie, but damnit, did he have to be so good at this?

“Mom, look what Lucifer made.” Trixie walked over to show off the jacket.

“I saw, Monkey. Wasn’t that nice of him?”

“What did you make?” Trixie was too excited about the jacket to object to the usage of her nickname.

Chloe looked down at the table. “I made a bag, just like you.”

“Mine has a heart on it. What about yours?”

Chloe took a breath and lifted her arms. Lucifer came over to join them. “I thought you said you were good at camping?” he commented upon seeing her failed endeavor.

“This isn’t camping!” Chloe shouted. Everyone looked at her. “But it’s a great, rainy day activity,” she amended.

“How did you rip it?” Trixie took hold of the bag between her fingers. It was like she was picking up a piece of trash.

“The important thing is your mother tried.” Lucifer attempted to make it better.

Chloe shot him a death glare. “Thanks.”

“Do I have to keep this?” Trixie whispered to Lucifer.

“No,” he mouthed to her in reply.

“Okay, on to our next funtivity,” Sarah spoke. Fred and Daphne, with the help of some of the parents, had cleared away the Bedazzlers and set out the next activity. “Usually we gather wildflowers on the hike, but we won’t be able to do that today. No worries, we have dried wildflowers from previous hikes, and we’re going to attach them to these glass platers. Won’t that be fun?”

Chloe grunted in frustration. Okay, she was done now. One craft was enough, and two back to back was way over her limit. “I’m going to look around the building a little. Are you okay to stay here?” she asked Lucifer.

“I saw this on Pinterest and have been wanting to try it.” Lucifer spoke, oblivious to what she had said.

“Okay, if you need me, I’ll be right out in the hall.”

“Sure sure.” Lucifer waved his hand at her. “If I don’t get to that table first, Helena is going to take all those purple flowers, I see her eyeing them now.” Choe rolled her eyes.

“Everyone come on over,” Daphne invited.

Lucifer was off in a shot. “Back off,” he told Helena as they reached the exact same spot at the same moment.

“Yeah, I need to get out of here.” Chloe turned on her radio as she left the dining room. “Officer Decker checking in, over.”

There was static for a moment and then, “Officer Wilkes, still here, over.”

“Have you seen anything? Over.”

“Oh, you know, just the usual, a swamp monster, a werewolf, a ghost pirate.”

“Wilkes . . .”

“Nothing, Chloe, I’ve seen a whole lot of nothing, besides rain. Over.”

“Thank you. Was that so hard? Is Corcuza there yet? Over.”

“Nope. Over.”

“Okay. I’ll check back in an hour. Over.” Chloe signed off and clipped the radio back to her belt. She really didn’t want to go back into that den of crafting, so she looked around the hall. The walls were lined with the photos of past campers. As she casually perused the pictures, there was a creak down the hall to her left. She looked up to see the Library door opening.

Chloe took a breath and approached the open door. She stepped inside the room quickly, her hand ever ready over her firearm at her side. As before, there was no one in there. Chloe took another breath and moved into the room with careful steps. She felt like she was intruding on a private space, but that made no sense. This was a public room in a public building. Chloe stopped at the table against the large window in the room. The little light visible outside glinted off the silver frames that set on the table. She picked up one of the framed pictures. It was of a young girl.in a white dress and an older man in a dark suit. The girl was sitting on the man’s lap and smiling. The plate at the bottom of the frame read, “George and Catherine Amis, 1919.”

“She was a cute kid,” Chloe observed. Catherine was about Trixie’s size, a little smaller. Chloe felt a motherly pang in her heart and set the picture down.

“What are you doing in here?” a voice asked behind her and Chloe whirled around. Velma was standing in the doorway.

“Velma, don’t do that. I could’ve seriously hurt you,” Chloe reprimanded as she tried to catch her breath.

“Sorry.” Velma hung her head. “I saw the door was open.”

“Why aren’t you with the other Scouts?”

“I had to go to the bathroom, and I didn’t want to go back,” Velma confessed. “I don’t like doing crafts.”

“You either, huh?”

Velma looked around the room, really taking it in for the first time. “Wow, this is a nice library. Look at all these books!” The younger girl ran up to the nearest shelf and started to peruse. “I’ve heard stories about this library.”

“Yeah, what kind of stories?”

“It has all kinds of first editions in it.”

“Velma, there you are.” Head counselor Sarah poked her head inside the room. “Oh, hey, Detective.”

“I’m just looking around,” Chloe explained.

“Of course.” Sarah nodded. “We’re still in the dining room, Velma.”

Velma gave Chloe a desperate look. “Actually, Sarah, Velma is helping me out right now,” the Detective spoke up.

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Sarah nodded again and left the room.

“Thank you.” Velma took a sigh of relief.

“It’s always nice to have a second set of eyes,” Detective Decker assured her. Velma smiled and turned her attention back to the shelves. A moment of silence passed between them as they explored the room. “Have you read the book about Camp Wildbegone?” Chloe asked.

“Yeah. I brought it with me if you wanna read it,” Velma offered.

“Maybe. That’s nice of you to share.”

“Books are meant to be shared.” Velma reached up to take a book off a shelf and flip through it.

Chloe looked up at a big portrait hanging on the wall. Velma followed her line of site. “That’s Catherine and her grandfather and Catherine’s mother Lucille. Catherine’s dad died in 1915. He was a passenger on the Lusitania when it sank. He was George’s only child. Catherine was his only grandchild.”

“Sad story,” Chloe commented as she continued to look at the portrait. “Why do people think Catherine was murdered?”

Velma re-shelved the book she was looking at and selected another. “She drowned in the caves, but people don’t think it was Catherine’s idea to go down there. Her mom especially didn’t think so.” Velma pointed to the portrait.

“Yeah.” Chloe recalled what Ella Lopez had said when they’d started this case. "She accused the other girls, right?”

“Yeah, but nothing ever came of it. They were just kids.”

“Kids can be pretty mean sometimes.” Chloe watched Velma closely.

The girl shrugged. “I guess, sometimes.”

At that moment, a book fell off the shelf on the other side of the room and hit the floor with a thud. The two of them just looked at each other. Chloe approached the book slowly and picked it up. It was a weathered copy of Treasure Island. “Oh, I love this book.” Velma joined her and looked inquisitively over the Detective’s arm. “This was Catherine’s favorite book.”

“It was?” Chloe wanted to drop the book, but she held on to it. Velma took it out of her hand like it wasn’t a haunted object. At least one of them was being rational. 

“All these dog-eared pages,” Velma clucked her tongue. “I hate it when people do that.”

“Looks pretty used. Do you think Catherine read this copy?”

Velma shook her head. “No, it’s used, but it looks like it was worn on purpose, not from reading.”

“How perceptive.” 

“I bet the one Catherine read is in that cabinet.” Velma pointed to a locked, antique cabinet at the back for the room. She passed the book back to Chloe and went to examine the cabinet. 

Chloe flipped through the book and a piece of paper fell out of the back. It had been folded several times. All that was written on it was a series of random numbers. “Velma, look at this.”

“Got it!” Velma announced as popped the lock and opened the cabinet. She tucked the bobby pin back in her hair.

“How did you know to do that?”

“I read a lot of mysteries,” she confessed.

“Okay, but don’t tell anyone else about this,” Chloe advised.

“Got it.”

As Chloe reached into the cabinet, a map hanging on the wall came loose and hung sideways, scraping against the wall. “What was that?” Velma asked.

The Detective turned her attention to the sideways map. She took it off the wall and examined it. “Looks like a map of the well, or the first well.”

“They did move the well,” Velma imparted. She once again came to look over Chloe’s arm. “The one in the old spring house was the first well, but they had to move it because the water shifted and wasn’t reliable anymore. That’s why it was such a freak accident that Catherine drowned down there. Locals said the water shifted because that miner drowned in the caves in the 1870s.”

“How many ghosts do I need to keep track of here?” Chloe muttered to herself.

“Every good camp has a ghost story, until a better one comes along,” Velma concluded. “There’s a theory that when Catherine got lost in the caves, she made it to the old well and tried to climb her way out, but she couldn’t, and then the flood waters came.”

The cabinet door closed suddenly behind them, and they both jumped. “Is there a draft in this room or something?” Chloe looked around.

Velma walked back over to the cabinet and yanked the door open. “Hey, look!”

“What?!” Chloe hoped her voice sounded steadier than it felt.

“I found another Treasure Island!” Velma reached in and carefully removed an old book. 

“I found this note tucked into the other copy.” Chloe showed the younger girl the folded paper. “Do these numbers mean anything to you?”

“No. Looks like some kind of code.”

“Why would it be in here?” Chloe pondered aloud.

“Oh, wow.” Velma breathed in awe. “I think these are Catherine’s notes in the margins.”

“What does she say?” the Detective wanted to know.

“Sometimes she jots down the weather, and here’s a joke. I think this is a flower.” Velma showed Chloe the page.

“That’s a pretty drawing.”

“Yeah.” Velma turned a few more pages and her expression changed.

“What is it?” Chloe asked.

“I want to belong here, but I don’t. I want to go home,” Velma read.

One of the pictures on the table by the window fell over on its face with a clack. “What is happening?” the Detective asked the universe. She walked over and picked up the picture. It was a group photo taken shortly before Catherine’s death. All the other girls in the photo were smiling, but Catherine was removed from them, sullen and silent looking. Her expression was a far cry from the smiling, happy girl who was seated on her grandfather’s lap just one picture over.

“Wow, she does not look happy,” Velma observed.

“No, she does not.”

Chloe’s cellphone rang, cutting through the silence. They both screamed. Chloe set the picture down and fished out her phone. Ella was calling. “Neither of us screamed, got it?” she told Velma before answering. “Decker.” Chloe moved away as she spoke.

“Hey, I actually got you,” Ella celebrated.

“Ella, I thought we agreed cellphones were out and you'd call on the camp's phone?”

“It’s having problems ringing in,” Ella explained. “I was hoping you could get Brad Jenson for me? Maybe he can call out easier than I can call in?”

“What do you need Brad for?”

“I have some questions about the camp’s finances. The other officers are out dealing with weather related issues, so I get to do the questioning right now, which is amazing!” Ella gushed. 

“Yeah, I’ll get him to call you,” Chloe assured. “Just hang on." There was an odd crackle on the call. "Ella?” She was answered by silence. The call had been dropped. “Of course.” The Detective put her phone away. “Velma, let’s put all this stuff back and rejoin the others, okay?”

Velma sighed but complied. She put the old book back and closed the cabinet. Chloe straightened the map on the wall. She was about to re-shelve the first copy of Treasure Island, but reconsidered, tucking the book and its note into her back pocket. 

“You know it’s cool to be into books and enjoy reading, right?” Chloe spoke as they closed the door and walked down the hall.

“Yeah.”

“And I know it can be hard to make friends when you’re homeschooled.” The Detective knew a little bit about Velma’s home life. She was currently in a foster home, but the girl was so far ahead in school, that her foster parents were homeschooling her instead of sending her to public school. Chloe had been homeschooled, too, but not because she was a star student. If anything, she had put her acting ahead of her studies.

“Yeah, maybe.” Velma was noncommittal.

“You can come and talk to me anytime you need to, okay?” Chloe offered. Velma nodded.

As they rejoined the group, the crafts had been cleared away and the group was now watching a slideshow on birds. A large screen was set up where the circle had been and Fred was doing his best to describe the different kinds of birds they might see on their watch tomorrow. “Have you come back to kill me and put me out of my misery?” Lucifer asked when he saw Chloe.

“No, I’m here for Brad.” Chloe walked over to the camp director. “Brad, we need you to call the station. One of our investigators has some questions for you.”

Brad begrudgingly looked up from his tablet and stack of papers. He was already miffed that he had to stay with the group at all times so the Detective could see where he was. “Why didn’t they call here?”

“They said there was a problem calling in.”

“Damn,” Brad swore under his breath. “The Internet guys told me they'd fixed that issue.” He gathered his tablet and papers and walked out with a huff.

Chloe followed him, stopping by Lucifer once more on her way out. “What’s the matter? I thought you were enjoying your time camping?”

“That was during craft time. This bird slideshow is interminable.”

“Hang in there.” Chloe gripped his shoulder. She smiled, secretly pleased at this development.

When they reached the director’s office, Chloe made sure Brad had Ella’s direct line. Fortunately, he had no problems calling out. As Ella and the camp director conversed, the Detective hung just outside his office by the open door. She could overhear the conversation, and it didn’t sound like there was anything inflammatory or revealing there. Chloe pulled the book out of her back pocket and removed the note. She looked at the numbers, trying to discern any connection they might share.

Back in the dining room, Fred tried to read his notes as the computer advanced to the next slide “This is a California Towhee. This bird predominantly lives in California, except for some pockets in Oregon and the Baja Peninsula. Isn’t that cool?” The picture on the screen changed again, but this picture wasn’t of a bird. It was of Catherine and her fellow campers. Velma recognized it as the same picture she’d seen in the library.

“This is the Cedar Waxwing.” Brad looked at the screen. “What the - Daphne?”

His fellow counselor held her hands up. “I didn’t do anything.” She wasn’t touching the computer. The slideshow was programmed to advance on its own.

The picture changed again, this time to the Cedar Waxwing. Brad took a breath and tried to recover. “Okay, so the Cedar Waxwing.” The image changed a third time, and there was Catherine and her group, only this time the image had been zoomed in so that Catherine was more in focus.

“What’s going on?” Gloria asked.

The image switched back to the bird. “Uh,” Brad hesitated. Then the screen flipped back to Catherine and she was even more in focus this time.

“I’m gonna get the Detective.” Daphne jumped up and ran out. “Detective, there’s a problem in the dining room!”

Chloe dropped the book and ran back with the counselor. When she got to the dining room, she saw Sarah and Fred fiddling with the computer, trying to figure out what it was doing. She watched as the picture of Catherine flashed intermittently on the screen. The parents and Scouts were concerned. “Hold on.” Chloe popped back out and checked on Brad in his office. He was still on the phone and nowhere near his computer.

“What?” He looked up at Chloe expectantly. She didn’t answer him, just turned and ran back.

In the dining room, the Scouts and parents had moved away from the screen and projector, putting Lucifer out front. “What, you all are scared of this contraption?” Lucifer walked up to the computer. He examined it for one second before yanking the power chord out of the surge protector. The projector turned off instantly, going dark. He closed the laptop. “There, problem solved.”

Chloe walked back into the room and joined her partner. “What’d you do?”

“Turned the infernal thing off. Show’s over, everyone.”

At that moment, the projector snapped back to life and the image of Catherine was on the screen once more. This time, Catherine filled the entire screen, her sullen eyes staring out from the center of Lucifer’s chest since he was still standing in front of the projector. There were several screams.

“I told you, Miss Catherine is always watching!” Krenshaw warned from the doorway.

Lucifer looked over his shoulder and realized what was on the screen. The Devil jerked back and went to stand behind Chloe, effectively putting her out front. She had never seen that look on his face before. The Detective turned her attention to the screen. Catherine’s eyes stared back at her for another moment, and then the screen went black.


	8. The Most Important Thing Is, We All Remain Calm

Chloe looked the laptop over thoroughly before turning it on. It appeared normal enough, although admittedly she wasn’t an expert on such things. “Who put the slideshow together?” she asked as the system booted up.

“I did, over a year ago,” Sarah explained.

“And it’s never done this before?”

“No. Nothing like this has ever happened before,” Brad assured her.

The Detective eyed him as she turned on the projector. They’d brought all the equipment into his office for closer examination. Fred and Daphne had stayed behind with the Scouts to keep them occupied. Chloe knew all the parents and Lucifer were waiting just outside for her verdict on what had really happened in the dining room.

As soon as the system was up and running, Chloe accessed the file and went through it. It was all birds. There were no images of Catherine anywhere in the PowerPoint. She hooked the computer up to the projector and watched the slideshow run. “Be honest, is there another file?”

“What, you think we did this?” Brad was offended. “You think we’d purposely scare our campers?”

“The thought had crossed my mind.”

“That is – an outrageous claim!”

Chloe rounded on the camp director. “What other explanation do you have? And don’t say Catherine Amis’ ghost.”

The staff had nothing to say. Krenshaw appeared in the doorway. “Miss Catherine is restless. Her . . .”

“Not now, Krenshaw!” Brad shouted.

Krenshaw looked crestfallen. “I’ll just get the trash, then.” He awkwardly stepped between them and picked up the trash can.

Chloe waited until he had left the room to speak again. “I need to know who has access to this computer and every other piece of technology you have. I’ll need all your passwords, and these are coming back with me to the station.” She turned off the projector and closed the laptop.

“We need that for other activities,” Brad protested.

“Go analog,” Chloe advised. “Back to your roots.”

“Does this mean you’re leaving, then?” Sarah wanted to know.

Chloe took a breath. She had really wanted to see this thing through. Bumps and bangs and odd happenings in the Library she could overlook, but this was different. The Scouts might be disappointed, but she had to do what was best for their safety. “I think it’s best if we all leave.”

“You’re not getting your money back,” Brad pointed out, his tone harsh. Chloe stared him down. “You’ll get everything but your deposit back,” he amended. 

Chloe picked up the projector and laptop and was about to leave when a call came over the camp’s emergency radio system. “Site 2-4-0, this is Ranger Station 3, do you copy? Over.”

The Detective paused in the doorway as Brad answered. “The is site 2-4-0, we hear you. Over.”

“Why aren’t you guys answering your phone? Over.”

“Phone is on the fritz again. Over.”

“How are you all holding up in the weather? Over.”

“We’re fine. We have a group, but they’re getting ready to leave. Over.” Brad looked at Chloe.

“That’s a negative, site 2-4-0. That’s why I’m contacting you. Rain’s caused a big mudslide on your access route. We’ve got crews out here, but it won’t be completely cleared until tomorrow. Are you guys okay to bunk down for the night? You got power and all that? Over.”

“Yeah, we’ve got power and plenty of supplies. We’ll get through the night. Over.”

“Good to hear. I’ll contact you if anything changes. Station 3, over and out.”

Brad hung up the radio and silence filled the room. “So . . .,” the camp director tentatively started. “Can we still use the computer?”

“No.” Chloe clutched the technology closer to her chest. “Just, stay here. I need a minute to – to think.”

The Detective left the office, her head spinning. She didn’t have much time to think because as soon as Lucifer and the other parents saw her, they were on her.

“We’re leaving, right?” Lucifer demanded to know.

“Uh, hold onto these.” Chloe passed the laptop and projector to him. The Devil made a face but did as instructed.

“Lucifer said we’d be leaving. Are we leaving?” Gloria sounded on the verge of panic.

Chloe took a breath. “No. We’re staying.”

“What?!” Valerie shouted. There was a series of complaints being hurled at her and the Detective had to fight to be heard over them.

“Listen! We can’t leave. There’s a mudslide on the road. We can’t get out and the buses can’t get to us. It will be tomorrow before they have it cleared. We’re inside here, out of the elements, and we have food and water. This is the safest place to be,” she enforced.

“Except for the ghost,” Valerie remarked.

“This sucks,” Julia huffed.

“The girls are probably scared to death,” Theresa worried.

They could hear the girls in the dining room laughing and shouting. They didn’t sound upset. “What are they doing?” Chloe asked.

“Oh, Daphne pulled out all the balls and they’re throwing them at that young, handsome counselor,” Angelique explained.

“Well, they sound okay right now. I say we stick to the schedule, but no more computer related activities. We don’t tell them about the mudslide, and we act like everything is normal. The most important thing is, we all remain calm,” Chloe directed.

The other parents exchanged looks but agreed. “Are you out of your mind?!” Lucifer spoke up. He deposited the technology in a nearby chair and approached his partner. “No, we get an aeroplane or a helicopter, or a tank that will blast through the dirt! We call out the military, the National Guard, the Coast Guard, someone! Get the LAPD down here with shovels! We don’t sit and wait like saps!”

Chloe’s mouth hung open, unsure of what she should say. She had seen Lucifer in a tizzy before, but this was something else. Brad cleared his throat from behind her and she startled. “I, uh, assure you all, that you’ll be safe here. I can’t explain what happened, but I know Catherine’s not dangerous. We’ll make sure you all stay safe. It’s our jobs.”

“What, um, is on the schedule next?” Chloe turned her attention to Brad and Sarah.

Sarah consulted her tablet. “Lunch prep. We make sandwiches together.”

“That’s a good idea. We’ll all feel better after we eat. You all go in there and rescue Fred and get lunch ready.” Chloe held open a door to the dining room and the parents and staff filtered back in. 

“Mercy!” she heard Fred shout before closing the door. Chloe was most worried about her partner. He looked unhinged, which was never a good look for Lucifer.

“What is going on with you?” she asked.

“I can fly us out of here, you and me, and the urchin if you insist. We’ll be back at Lux in moments.”

“Lucifer, you can’t fly us out of here.”

“Oh, you’re worried the urchin will see. I still have my flask. Couple of sips and she’ll be out.” Lucifer was desperate.

“No, we can’t leave everyone behind. We’re responsible for their safety,” Chloe pointed out.

“They don’t have wings. They made their choice,” Lucifer snapped.

“Seriously, what is going on with you?” The Detective reached out and placed her hand on his arm. “What’s wrong?”

“Everything, everything is wrong! I sit in hell for millennia, and now my father randomly decides hell no longer needs a warden. My dickhead twin who never leaves the Silver City decides to pop by. We sleep together for the first time, and I lose my powers. You can mojo me. You can mojo random people. I cut my wings off, they come back twenty times over. My devil face comes and goes. Amenadiel loses his powers. There’s, there’s no reason to any of it. We literally have no control.” The Devil was crumbling in front of her and Chloe had no idea what to do. “Maybe ghosts are real, who knows?”

“I don’t think a ghost is haunting this camp, Lucifer.”

“No, if my dad did make a ghost, he’d make a ghost child. A small, invisible human I can’t see.” Lucifer looked around the room, his eyes wide and wild. “That’s why he said hell didn’t need a warden. That’s why he’s keeping me here, so this ghost child can torture me.” Lucifer laughed. “Oh, this is a good one, Dad.” 

“Wow, you are really spiraling.” The Detective really didn’t know what to do.

“Where are you? You could be anywhere. Because I can’t see you!” Lucifer yelped and swatted at the air. “What the bloody hell was that?!”

“That was a bug.”

“I think you’ll feel much better in here.” Chloe opened the door to their room/closet. 

Lucifer was less than convinced. “What if the ghost’s in there?”

“There’s no ghost in this closet, Lucifer.”

“How do you know? You don’t know,” he protested.

Chloe set the confiscated technology down and rolled her eyes. She looked around the shelves to see if there was anything she could use to her advantage. There was the ping pong paddle, too small. There was a baseball bat, too big and destructive. There was also a badminton racket, perfect. The Detective picked up the racket and handed it to the Devil. “Here.”

“What am I supposed to do with this?”

“Swat the ghost away.”

“And this will work?”

“Maybe.” It was the nicest answer she could give him at the moment.

“Here’s the cable you were asking for, Detective,” Fred spoke as he joined them. “Whoa, watch it!” The counselor had to duck as Lucifer swung the racket.

“That’s Fred!” Chloe grabbed Lucifer’s arm. “We don’t hit living people. Sorry, we’re a little high-strung right now,” she explained to the counselor.

“Yeah, I get that.” Fred handed Chloe the Ethernet cable and left before he could be used as target practice again.

Chloe moved the cots away from the old, Ethernet port and plugged the cable in. “What are you doing?” Lucifer asked.

“I have something that will hopefully make you feel better.” The Detective pulled the laptop over and attached the other end of the cord to it. “Wifi’s not great in this closet, but this should take care of that.”

“Are you finally going to let me fly us out of here, because that would make me feel better.”

“No,” Chloe sighed. “But this will be just as good.”

“Officer Wilkes checking in with an update. Over,” Chloe’s radio crackled.

The Detective pulled the radio off her belt as she continued to work on the computer. “Go ahead. Over.”

“So, still no ghosts or anything, but the station called. Corcuza can’t get in because of the mudslide. Over.”

Oh yeah, Chloe had forgotten about that little detail. “Shit,” she whispered. “Are you okay out there? Over,” she spoke into the radio.

“Yeah, but Corcuza was bringing dinner, and I have some snacks, but can somebody bring me some food? Over.”

Chloe sighed again. “Yeah, I’ll make sure you get some food. Over.”

“Thanks. Wilkes, over and out.”

“What is this day?” Chloe asked herself. She logged into Skype and hoped that Linda would be near her phone, or computer, or tablet. Please, let her be near some piece of technology. Fortunately, the doctor was in.

“Chloe? Why are you Skyping me? Aren’t you camping?” Dr. Linda Martin was dressed in her pajamas and on her couch. 

“Yeah, we are. We’ve uh, hit a bit of a snag.”

“Uh oh. What’s wrong?”

Lucifer looked hopeful. “You called Amenadiel. Excellent, my brilliant Detective. He’ll have the answers.” The Devil sat down on the floor beside Chloe and crowded her out of the frame. “Linda, you look comfy. Where’s my brother?”

“He’s with Charlie at a Daddy and Me class,” Linda informed.

Lucifer’s face fell. “A what? But I need him! That’s just like him, leaving me in a lurch.”

“Yes, how selfish of him to take a class with his child,” Linda remarked.

“I know!” the Devil agreed. 

Linda took a breath. “Maybe you can tell me what the problem is, Lucifer? I might be able to help.”

Lucifer gave her a look. “Can you tell me if my father ever purposely created a ghost child as a way to torment me?”

Linda was silent for a moment. “Oh boy, no I cannot.”

Lucifer scoffed. “Of course not, because you’re not God’s favorite son.”

“Sorry,” Chloe mouthed at the screen.

“Just, uh, give me a minute here.” Linda got off her couch and went into the kitchen. They could hear clanking in the background. She returned a moment later with a glass and an open bottle of wine.

“Linda,” Chloe started to say, but the doctor held up her hand.

“Give me one more second.” Linda filled her glass and then took an extra swig out of the bottle for good measure. “Okay, let’s start at the beginning.”

“I’m going to leave you two to chat. I have to go and check on the Scouts. They’re making sandwiches.” Chloe passed the laptop to Lucifer.

“Wait, is this the contraption from the dining room?” Lucifer was reluctant to take it.

“It’s fine, Lucifer. There are no ghosts in the machine.” Chloe stood up and stepped over him.

“If that abhorrent apparition shows up again, can I beat the contraption with my racket?” He held up his trusty badminton racket.

“Sure.” Chloe wasn’t going to fight that battle right now. “Sorry, again,” she told the woman on the other side of the screen.

“No, it’s okay. What else am I doing with my free time?” Linda took another swig from her glass.

“I’ll be right down the hall,” Chloe assured her partner. 

“Oh, if you’re making Wilkes a sandwich, make me one, too” Lucifer stopped her as she reached the door.

“Okay.”

“And bring me some crisps.”

Chloe sighed. “Sure.” She left before Lucifer could ask for anything else. As worried as she was about her partner, she needed to go and check on her actual child. One thing was certain, though, Chloe was going to owe Linda big time after this.

Back in the dining room, the Scouts were just sitting down to eat. Much to Chloe’s relief, Trixie seemed to be doing fine. She was sitting with her friends, eating, and chatting. Chloe came up behind her and kissed her on the top of her head. “How’re you doing, Monkey?”

The other girls, especially Claire, giggled and Trixie flushed. She looked back at her mom. “I’m fine, and don’t call me that,” she whispered.

“How are you all? You okay?” she asked the rest of the girls.

There were head nods and affirmative answers. “I have three kinds of meat on my sandwich,” Georgia informed her. 

“That’s pretty neat,” Chloe replied. “You all enjoy your lunch.” She squeezed Trixie’s shoulder. Trixie tucked her neck in and tried to shake her mother’s hand off. Message received, Chloe let go and stepped back. She walked off to the kitchen, seeing what she could do about getting a sandwich together for Wilkes and the Devil she’d left behind in the closet.

When lunch was over, the Scouts went to the bunk room to work on their skit. “I’ll be right outside,” Daphne assured Chloe. She pulled a chair over next to the bunk room door and had a seat.

Chloe nodded and carried the plate she was holding to the closet. She stopped right outside the open door. She could hear Linda talking to her partner. “Lucifer, maybe this new fear of yours is a result of something else? There have been a lot of changes in your life lately. You returned to hell, thinking you’d have to stay forever, but now you’re back. You and Chloe are officially dating. That’s a big deal. And it’s not just Chloe, is it, because there’s Trixie, too. You’re on this camping trip as a family. That can be a lot of pressure.”

Lucifer was silent for a second. “No, this about a ghost child and what I can do about it. And it’s not a fear, it’s an annoyance. I prefer to be able to see my adversaries when I clock them.”

Chloe rolled her eyes and stepped into the closet. “Here’s your sandwich, and your crisps.”

“Oh, thank you. Sustenance at last.” Lucifer took the plate from her. “Have to keep my strength up to deal with this pesky poltergeist.”

“How’s it going?” the Detective asked Linda.

“Oh, we’re almost through a bottle.” The doctor held up her nearly empty bottle of wine.

So, about as well as Chloe expected. “Lucifer, I’m taking this sandwich to Wilkes. The Scouts are in their room working on their skit. Can you keep an ear out in case they need anything?”

Lucifer nodded, but Chloe wasn’t one hundred percent convinced he was actually listening. “What would you do, doctor, if there was a small, invisible child haunting your house?”

“Buy more wine.”

Chloe decided now was as good a time as any to leave and take Wilkes his sandwich.

In the bunk room, the Scouts were discussing their skit. “I’ve thought about it, and I think we should do the fashion show,” Claire imparted. “It’s really the best idea.”

“Yeah, fashion show,” Kesha concurred.

“But we have a skit,” Trixie protested.

“What about combing them?” Helena chimed in.

“We could vote,” Georgia proposed.

“Fine, everyone who wants to do the fashion show, raise your hand,” Claire instructed. Everyone raised their hands, except for Trixie. Velma wasn’t even near them, she was sitting on her bead and reading.

“What about her? What’s her name?” Claire pointed to Velma.

“That’s Velma,” Taylor informed.

“Velma, do you want to be in our fashion show?” Claire asked.

Velma didn’t look up from her book. “No, thank you.”

“Good,” Claire remarked. “Okay, so that’s five yeses. Who wants to do Trixie’s skit?”

Trixie raised her hand. None of the other Scouts raised their hands. “And who wants to mix them together?” Helena added. She and Trixie were the only ones with their hands in the air. Trixie gave Taylor a wounded look.

“We win,” Claire chirped.

Trixie crossed her arms. “Well, Velma has to be in it. Everyone has to have a part, that’s the rule.”

Claire looked back at Velma and made a face. “She can open the curtain when we walk out or something. Tech people don’t have to be pretty.”

“Hey, Trixie, you can wear your jacket in the fashion show,” Taylor pointed out, trying to mend bridges with her friend.

“Or we can take turns. That jacket would go great with my dress,” Claire pointed out. She reached over and felt the sleeve. “Can I try it on?”

“No.” Trixie jerked her arm away.

“That’s mean, Trixie,” Georgia spoke up.

“Yeah, Claire is sharing her clothes with us,” Kesha added.

Trixie sighed and took off the jacket. She handed it to Claire. It was a little small on the taller girl, but she didn’t seem to care. Claire twirled round and round in the jacket. “Oh yeah, I look good in this.” She started to pose, and Taylor pretended to take pictures of her. 

“Okay, give it back now.” Trixie reached for the jacket.

“I just got it,” Claire protested.

“I said give it back.” Trixie reached for the jacket again and grabbed the arm. She tugged and several rhinestones popped off and scattered across the floor. “Look what you did!” she shouted at Claire.

“Me?! You did that.”

“Yeah, that was all you, Trixie,” Taylor agreed.

Trixie bit her bottom lip and took a step back. “I’m going to the bathroom.” With that, the younger Decker turned and hurried out of the room. Velma watched her go.

“She’s ruined it now,” Claire commented as she took the jacket off and tossed it on a nearby bed. “You all want to see what I think you should wear?”

Sandwich successfully delivered, Chloe returned to the main building and removed her soggy raincoat. She hung it up at the entrance. “Everything okay?” she asked Daphne.

“Yeah, Trixie went to the bathroom. The others are in the bunk room.”

Chloe turned the corner and caught Trixie on her way back. She knew instantly that her daughter was upset about something. “Hey, Monkey, what’s wrong?” Chloe stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

Trixie turned her angry eyes up to her mother. “I told you not to call me that! Will you leave me alone for five minutes, please?!” Trixie pulled away from her and headed to the room. “So embarrassing,” she muttered.

Chloe had been shot before, but somehow this hurt worse. The Detective turned and went straight to the closet. “Give me that, I need to talk to Linda now,” she told the Devil.  
“But we haven’t figured out what to do about the ghost child yet,” Lucifer protested.

“And you’re not going to. Hand it over.” Chloe took the laptop from him. “Hey, Linda, how do you know if you’ve been a bad parent?”

“You do remember my son is a baby, right?”

“Yeah, I know, but hypothetically speaking?”

Lucifer stood and looked around the space awkwardly. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Go and check on the other parents.” Chloe waved her hand at him.

“Fine.” Lucifer collected his racket and left the room, making sure to shake his racket around in the hall before stepping out.

As Lucifer opened the door to the second bunk room, the parents stopped talking and hid whatever they were holding behind their backs. “Oh, it’s just Lucifer, he won’t care.” Angelique breathed a sigh of relief and moved the bottle of wine and glass from behind her back. The other parents slowly revealed their glasses.

“It’s just to take the edge off,” Gloria hurried to explain.

“Yeah, and it’s only one glass,” Julia added.

“Speak for yourself,” Angelique commented and poured herself another.

“You won’t tell the Detective, will you?” Valerie wanted to know.

“Of course, he’s not going to do that.” Angelique walked over and draped her arm around Lucifer’s shoulders. She had to stand awkwardly on her tiptoes. “He’s not a snitch. I’m just helping the ladies out, Lucifer,” she explained to the Devil. “They were all so high-strung.”

“Why are you carrying that racket?” Theresa inquired.

Lucifer held up his weapon. “I’m saving us.”

“What?” Valerie was confused.

“You’re welcome,” he concluded.

“Do you, uh, want any?” Angelique offered Lucifer the bottle.

The Devil’s first instinct was to reach for it, but then Dan’s words ran through his mind again. Seriously, how long was that going to keep happening? With an odd groan, Lucifer refrained. “No, you ladies enjoy yourselves. I’ll stand guard.”

“Suit yourself.” Angelique shrugged and filled her glass a third time. Lucifer gripped the racket a little tighter and started to pace in front of the door.

“I don’t care if he’s crazy,” Julia whispered to Theresa. “I’d still tap that.”

Theresa finished her glass. “I think when you’re British, it’s called eccentric.”

When Trixie had returned to the bunk room, she found things pretty much the way she’d left them. The other girls were all circled around Claire and Velma was still on her bed reading. One thing had changed, though. Her jacket was back on her bed and someone had picked up the rhinestones from the floor and placed them in a pile on top of the jacket. Trixie looked over to see Velma watching her. The other girl quickly buried her face in her book. A part of Trixie wanted to say thank you, but for some reason the words wouldn’t leave her throat. Trixie silently gathered the stones and tucked them away in her backpack.

In the closet, the older Decker was struggling to say what she wanted to, as well. “I don’t know, Linda, she’s never acted like that before.”

“Well, she is older now, practically a teenager. Do you remember how you felt about your mom at that age?”

“Shit,” Chloe sighed.

“That doesn’t mean you all have to have the same relationship,” Linda hurried to add, “but she’s going to start pushing back more. She is your child.”

“Damnit.” 

“No, go ahead, get it all out now,” Linda advised.

Before Chloe could say anything more, everything went dark and the computer turned off. She hadn’t plugged it in, so the battery must be dead. That wasn’t the biggest problem, though. The biggest problem was the power was out. The building was filled with the screams of the startled campers and adults, but Chloe could tell who was screaming the loudest. It was definitely Lucifer. “Shit,” the Detective swore again for good measure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what would the Devil be afraid of? An invisible, unpredictable ghost child. Living small humans are bad enough, but ghost children are the worst.


	9. They Don’t Train You for This at the Academy

Detective Decker tripped over a cot on her haste to get out of the closet and stumbled into the hall. It was still daytime outside, but with all the cloud cover and rain, there wasn’t much natural light getting into the building. With the lights out it was dark. Chloe shuddered to think how dark it would be if the power went out at night. Brad stepped out of his office, maybe in an attempt to assuage her pending panic attack.

“Don’t worry, we have a generator which will kick on in two minutes if . . .” The lights flickered and came back on. “. . . if the power doesn’t come back on.” He smiled at her. “False alarm.”

“You’ve got a generator?” Chloe wasn’t about to take any chances.

“Yeah, it’ll power the emergency lights, the freezer, and the security system for at least eighteen hours.”

“Here’s hoping we won’t need it.”

The Scouts filtered out of their bunk room. “Hey, just a little flicker in the lights, nothing to worry about,” Chloe rushed over to assure them. “Everyone doing okay?”

“Yeah. Who screamed so loud?” Trixie wanted to know.

The door to the second bunk room opened and a racket appeared. It waved wildly in the air. A second later, Lucifer bounded out swinging for the rafters. His racket made contact with some of the old camp pictures hanging on the wall, knocking them to the floor. “Lucifer, Lucifer, you got that bug!” Chloe tried to grab his swinging arm without getting hit. “You got it!”

The Devil stopped swinging as soon as the Detective was in range. “I most certainly did not! She’s still out there somewhere.”

“Take a break for a minute, Babe Ruth.” Chloe pried the racket out of his hands. “Gloria, head count?” The Troop leader nodded and started to count the Scouts.

“Head count? We’re all here.” Claire looked around.

“Humor me,” Chloe replied.

“Your boyfriend has a healthy set of pipes,” Valerie commented as the Detective counted the adults.

“Yeah, can you get him to scream like that in bed?” Angelique winked and Chloe chose to ignore her. All Scouts and adults were present and accounted for. Brad was standing in the hall. Sarah joined him with a box full of little flashlights.

“Got the lights.”

“Excellent.” Brad held up one of the mini flashlights for the Scouts to see. “If we lose power again, we can all play flashlight tag. Won’t that be fun?” The kids cheered.

Fred and Daphne stepped out of the dining room. “Everybody okay?” Fred asked.

“Yep, we’re good,” Chloe enforced. “Except . . .” She looked around. “Where’s Krenshaw?”

“I told you, Miss Catherine was watching,” the groundskeeper intoned, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. Chloe shrieked a little. “She has a message for us all,” Krenshaw warned.

“And that message is stay inside and with your group at all times,” Brad spoke over him. The Scouts laughed and Lucifer had had enough. He stepped in front of the groundskeeper.

“No, don’t laugh at him. This unsightly gentleman is the only one speaking sense. He knows the truth. He knows this won’t save you.” Lucifer picked up one of the flashlights and shone it in Brad’s face before dropping it back in the box. “There’s nothing to laugh about. We’re trapped here with a temperamental ghost child.”

“Trapped?” Georgia asked.

The Devil bent down and got in her face. “Yes, small human, trapped because of a giant slide of mud that has blocked all help from possibly reaching us.”

“Lucifer!” Chloe hissed. “Uthsay upway aboutway ethay udslidemay.”

Lucifer scowled. “Really? I speak thousands of languages and you choose Pig Latin?”

“Are we safe here?” Kesha sounded concerned.

“Yes, we’re safe,” the Detective spoke before Lucifer could say anything else. “We have a roof over our heads. We have plenty of food and water, and if the power goes out again, we have flashlights.”

“And there’s a generator,” Brad added.

“See. Everything’s fine.” Chloe forced a smile.

“Hey, my bracelet flashed,” Taylor observed.

“Mine, too,” Trixie added.

“Oh, that means the system rebooted.” Sarah consulted her tablet. “Yep, everyone’s here.” She automatically showed the screen to Chloe.

“Great. So, what are we doing next?” The Detective looked at the head counselor expectantly.

“Right.” Sarah returned to the schedule. “We, uh, are doing camp bingo.” She turned to Fred and Daphne.

“Yes, camp bingo, with so many fun prizes!” Daphne revealed. “Come on!” She encouraged everyone back into the dining room.

“Fun prizes like what?” Fred whispered to her.

“I don’t know, we’ll come up with something. There are a lot of canned vegetables.”

As everyone left the hallway, Chloe started to pick up the pictures Lucifer had knocked over and hang them back on the wall. “Here, let me help you,” Sarah offered.

“You in any of these?” Chloe asked, as a way of making conversation.

“Probably.” Sarah smiled as she straightened a picture.

“Which one are you?”

“I don’t know, but I’m sure I’m up in a tree. I feel like I spent most of my teenage years up in a tree.” The Detective stopped what she was doing and watched the other woman. A moment later, Sarah stepped back to admire her handy work. “Eh, it’s straight enough. Time for camp bingo,” she told Chloe before walking off.

Chloe just nodded. She looked back at the pictures on the wall, there were several kids up in the trees. “Hey, Lucifer . . .”

“Not now, I have some questions for this gentleman.” Lucifer indicated Krenshaw.

“Fine, but don’t make him cry again,” Chloe instructed. As much as she wanted to examine these pictures, she also wanted to get back in the room where her daughter was.

“Racket.” Lucifer held his hand out expectantly as the Detective started to leave.

Chloe paused and looked from the racket to a nervous Krenshaw. “You can’t beat him with it, Lucifer.”

The Devil was offended. “I would never.”

“Am I safe here?” the groundskeeper wanted to know.

“Safety is an illusion, but yes,” Lucifer assured. Chloe handed over the racket and hurried into the dining room.

“I -uh, don’t have any new information for you.” Krenshaw swallowed hard.

“On the contrary, my friend, I believe you do.” Lucifer tapped the groundskeeper’s chest lightly with the end of the racket. “I think you have a world of insight, old man.”

Krenshaw made a face. “I’m not that old.”

“Of course, you are, look at you. What are you 80, 85?”

“No!”

“Oh, well I wouldn’t go around telling people that,” Lucifer advised. “Now, what is Catherine’s message?”

“What?”

Lucifer leaned in close. “The ghost child, what does she want? Does she speak to you directly? Whisper in your ear while you’re sleeping, leave you little notes in your coveralls?”

“No, nothing like that. I, just, uh, can feel her vibrations.”

“What on earth does that mean?”

Krenshaw held his hands out and made some sweeping gestures, like that would help explain it. “The air, it gets all electric when she’s near, and the room gets cold, and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up on end.”

The Devil subconsciously rubbed his neck. “But what does she want?”

“Respect. Miss Catherine always wants respect,” Krenshaw enforced.

“Yes, well I’m not too keen on respecting a ghost child that doesn’t respect me,” Lucifer countered. “That’s the problem, you all have catered to her every whim, given her run of the place. Well, spare the rod, or racket, and spoil the ghost child. Isn’t that how the saying goes?”

“I don’t think so.”

Lucifer eyed Krenshaw for a moment. “So that’s it, then, her big message?”

“Miss Catherine is always watching!” he repeated.

“Yes, you’ve said that. Ugh, you’re useless.” The Devil sighed and headed for the dining room.

“And I’m not that old!” Krenshaw called after him.

Camp bingo went smoothly enough, and after Fred and Daphne had raided the craft closet, they’d found enough suitable prizes. The Scouts were enjoying themselves and the parents were starting to relax. In fact, the only hiccup in the works was the Devil himself. He kept pulling the attention of the staff away to talk to them about their supernatural experiences. Normally, Chloe would be surprised and pleased by such initiative, but now was not the time.

“There are sounds at night,” Daphne shared with Lucifer. “Like, weird sounds. Sometimes it sounds like footsteps coming down the hall, but you’ll look out and no one’s there.”

“Don’t forget the crying,” Fred added as he spun the numbered balls in the bingo cage.

“Oh, yeah, sometimes we heard a kid crying in the hall, but that was before we had any campers here. It was during training.”

“And you’re sure it wasn’t Fed or Sarah or any of the others, like the dead counselor or the chap that got fired?” Lucifer pressed.

“No, because we all came out in the hall to look, cause we all heard it,” Daphne explained.

“Have you ever seen Catherine?” Lucifer wanted to know.

“No, but sometimes it gets cold, and I think I see something out of the corner of my eye.” Daphne folded her arms across her chest. “And one time, I swore I heard a small voice saying, ‘Mama.’”

“Does the hair stand up on the back of your neck?” the Devil whispered conspiratorially.

“Yes!”

“Tell him about your hairbrush,” Fred told Daphne.

“It hasn’t disappeared since Amber died, so I think she was taking it, not to speak ill of the dead or anything.”

“Do you all know what Catherine wants?” Lucifer queried.

“Probably to sit in her library and read in peace,” Fred mused.

“The library, yes, Krenshaw said she spent her time there,” the Devil recalled.

“Yeah, I never go in that room. It gives me the creeps,” Daphne divulged. “And I think she probably wants to have her murder solved.”

Fred scoffed. “She wasn’t murdered. She wandered off into the caves and got caught by the flood.”

Daphne gave her fellow counselor a stern look. “Why do you never back me up on this?”

“Next number, please!” Sarah spoke again. She looked back at Fred and Daphne.

“Oh!” Fred reached in the cage and grabbed another ball. “B-14.”

“B-14, thank you!” Sarah huffed.

“BINGO!” Helena shouted.

“Counselor Fred, check her card,” Sarah instructed.

Lucifer stepped forward. “I’m sorry, but we’re a little busy trying to figure out what the ghost child wants, which I believe takes precedence over your numbered ball game.”

Chloe walked up and took her partner by the arm. “We’ll be outside,” she informed the room. “Keep, uh, keep playing. Trixie, you can play my card.”

“Where are we going?” Lucifer asked as the Detective led him out into the hall.

“We’ll be in the library, come and get me for anything,” Chloe told Brad as they left.

“The library?!” Lucifer ground his heals to a halt as soon as they were on the other side of the door.

“Yeah, there are some things I want to check out there.”

“But that’s, that’s where Catherine is.” Lucifer wasn’t sure why he whispered her name.

“It’s a room, Lucifer, and I thought you wanted to investigate Catherine’s mystery?” Chloe threw back at him.

“I want to know what she wants so we can send her on her merry way, and she’ll leave us be,” Lucifer clarified.

“Well, I’m going to the library. You can hang out here in the hall, if you want, but you’re not going back in the dining room right now,” the Detective enforced. She turned and kept walking.

Lucifer vacillated for a second. He still had his racket with him, and he couldn’t let her go alone. The Devil took a breath and hurried after his partner. Chloe stopped when she reached the library door and looked back. Lucifer was right behind her, racket poised and ready.

“You can’t come in here swinging, there’s too many antiques.” Chloe took the racket from his hand and set it down outside the door.

“But that’s my racket,” Lucifer protested. “You gave it to me.”

“Yeah, that might have been a mistake,” Chloe acknowledged. She sighed, opened the door, and stepped inside the room. It was just the same as she’d left it. A small part of her had expected it to be different, for some reason, maybe a little disheveled.

Lucifer peeked his head inside and then tentatively crossed the threshold. “Rockefeller’s library looked a bit like this,” he surmised. “I doubt there’s any top shelf brandy stashed in here, though.”

“See, it’s just a room,” Chloe reinforced. “A cleverly staged room.”

“I don’t know.” Lucifer shook his head. “It feels . . .off.”

Chloe walked back over to where Lucifer was hovering near the door. “What does that mean?”

The Devil took another breath. He really didn’t know, and that was the most frustrating part. “I can’t explain it, but I feel . . .unsettled. My stomach hurts, like I imagine yours does after eating too much spicey food. My throat is tight, and there’s this hammering in my chest.”

Chloe reached out and placed her hand on his chest. “Lucifer, that’s your heart. It’s beating pretty fast.”

“Yes, and it’s annoying. And I’m sweating more than usual, although that could be these wretched clothes.” Lucifer shifted uncomfortably.

“Oh my gosh, you’re really scared.” The Detective was simultaneously amused and concerned.

“No,” Lucifer protested with a grimace. A book fell off a shelf and the Devil screamed. It was truly a noise Chloe had never heard him make before, high pitched and intense.

“It’s okay,” she hurried to assure him. “This happened last time I was in here.”

“And you came back?!”

“Yes, because I think this is all staged.” Chloe pulled the Treasure Island book out of her back pocket and showed it to him. “This fell off the shelf last time, and it had this note stuck inside it.” The Detective pulled out the note.

“What does it mean?”

“I haven’t figured it out yet, but it’s some kind of code. You want to take a crack at it?” She offered the note and book to her partner. Lucifer warily accepted them. “You take a look at that, and I’ll investigate this new development.”

Chloe walked over to the new, fallen book. Surprisingly, or maybe not so surprisingly, it was a copy of a Nancy Drew book, Nancy’s Mysterious Letter. “See, this is what I’m talking about.” She held the book up.

“What, what is it?” Lucifer was very much on edge.

“This, of all the books that falls off the shelf, it’s a Nancy Drew mystery.” Chloe reached back and felt around the shelf it fell off of.

“What are you doing?”

“Checking for a lever, or spring or something.”

“You know what happened, the ghost child knocked it off.”

Chloe shook her head. “You remember that escape room Trixie and I went to?”

“No.”

“That’s because you wouldn’t come with us. I believe you described it as an overpriced version of hell. Anyhow, this is kind of what it was like. They locked us in a room, and we had to look for clues, and sometimes things would fall off a wall, or a bookcase would move.” Chloe tugged on the whole shelf, but it didn’t budge. “This all feels too clean, too planned.”

“And did you escape the room?” Lucifer wanted to know.

Chloe ducked her head sheepishly. “Almost, but that last word problem to get out the door was really hard.”

“Well, if this is a word problem, we’re sunk then.” Lucifer held up the note.

“I wanted to come back and look at the things that fell earlier.” Chloe left the shelf and turned her attention to the map of the old well hanging on the wall.

A moment of silence passed between them as Lucifer studied the note. He suddenly shivered, and that was disconcerting on multiple levels. “Cold, this room just got cold.”

“Yeah, it did,” Chloe realized. A light noise, almost like a whistling, caught her attention. "Do you hear that?”

The Devil’s eyes grew wide. “What, is it a voice, like a child’s voice? Is she asking you to be her mother?! No, say no!”

“Shh,” Chloe shushed. She was trying to pinpoint where the noise was coming from.

“No, she will not be your mother, ghost child!” Lucifer shouted.

“I think it’s air, Lucifer, like it’s being pumped into the room.” Chloe started looking around for a vent or a return.

“Or it’s a ghost child, a very angry ghost child, who’s perturbed we’ve violated her inner sanctum,” Lucifer countered.

“Help me look for a vent,” the Detective encouraged.

“You told me to decode the note. I already have a task.”

“And did you solve it?” She walked over to him and took the note. “Get out now or you’ll die,” he had hastily written on it. “Lucifer . . .” she started to say, but the library door slammed closed at that moment.

The Devil screamed again. He turned on the door and began to pull on the handle desperately. “This isn’t a joke, or a game, Detective! We are trapped with a malevolent spirit, one sent purposely by my Father to torment me! None of us are safe!” In his shear panic, Lucifer forgot his celestial strength. He was like any, terrified human trying to remember how to work a doorknob.

“If this were an escape room, we’d definitely be losing,” Chloe commented.

“We’re trapped!” Lucifer screeched and banged on the door. The Detective was about to step up and help him when Krenshaw opened the door from the other side. “Stop doing that!” the Devil screamed in his face. He brushed the man aside, grabbed his racket, and took off down the hall.

Chloe ran to the door and watched him go. He was swatting at the air the whole time. “He’s a weirdo,” Krenshaw remarked before walking off.

Chloe sighed as she continued to watch Lucifer’s retreating figure. “I have no choice. I have to drug him.”

“Angelique, I need to speak with you,” Chloe whispered to the other parent when she returned to the dining room.

“Sure, I’ve won five rounds anyhow. Bingo is losing its charm.” Angelique pushed her card aside and stood.

Chloe led them out of the dining room and on to the second bunk room. She didn’t speak again until they were safely behind closed doors. “I’m getting a little nervous, Detective,” Angelique joked.

“Listen, I’m going to cut to the chase here.” Chloe rounded on the other woman. “I know you packed wine in your bag.”

Angelique gave a nervous laugh. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Gloria told me.”

“Damnit. And she had two glasses.”

“What else did you bring with you?” the Detective wanted to know.

Angelique shrugged. “Just my prescriptions.”

“Show me.” Chloe stared her down.

Angelique sighed. She opened her suitcase, pulled out a rather full bag and dumped its contents on a bed. Chloe gawked. “You have a prescription for all of this?”

“In one country or another, yes.”

Chloe began to pick up the bottles and examine them “Valium, Percocet, Xanax.”

“I don’t take them all at once,” Angelique assured her.

Chloe held up a separate bag. “Is this marijuana?”

“Yes. You want some?” Chloe was not amused. “Just kidding.”

“Uh huh.” The Detective nodded. “I’m, uh, going to keep this.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, in case the kids get into your luggage, or anything.” It was a flimsy excuse, but it was the best she could come up with.

“You are so uptight, but whatever. You want to keep the other stuff, too?”

“No. I’ll come back if I need it. I mean, it’s in clearly marked bottles, so the kids should leave it alone. They’ve, uh, taken classes on that sort of thing.” Chloe pocketed the marijuana and left the room.

“She is so odd,” Angelique commented.

By the time the Detective made it back to the dining room, bingo was being cleared away. The Scouts had had just about as much as they could take, and they’d also run out of prizes. “We’re going to go out on the porch for our next activity, which is landscape painting,” Sarah announced. “While we head out there, Counselors Fred and Daphne are going to stay behind and get things ready for dinner. When we come back in, we’ll be making our own pizzas. You all wanna help me take our supplies outside?”

The girls nodded and helped gather the paint and brushes. “We’ll be out there with them, Chloe,” Gloria assured as she passed the Detective.

“Great. I’ll, uh, be out there in just a minute.” Chloe looked around the dining room. “Have you seen Lucifer anywhere?”

“Your partner?” Brad chimed in. “Yeah, he’s holed up in the closet.”

“Closet as in our bedroom, or closet as in a closet?”

“Where you’re sleeping,” Brad clarified. “Made quite the dramatic scene about it, too.”

“Yeah, that sounds like him,” Chloe sighed. She left them and ventured on into the kitchen.

Fred and Daphne were sorting out the pizza kits for dinner and separating the ingredients out. “So, dinner is pizza, huh?” Chloe casually asked.

“Yep, and everyone gets their own kit,” Daphne explained.

“Cool, cool, have you, uh, assigned the kits or anything?”

“No, we’re just putting them together,” Fred replied.

“Let me help you guys. I can, uh, work on mine and Lucifer’s.”

“Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks.” Fred smiled. “Everyone gets dough, sauce, and cheese.”

“Those are the basic ingredients for pizza, yes,” Chloe remarked.

“The toppings bar will be separate,” Daphne added.

“This the, uh, sauce?” Chloe pointed to a large pot of sauce.

“Yep, we’re putting it in these smaller containers.” Fred handed her a ladle.

Chloe filled two, smaller containers with sauce. She moved her supplies to another table and turned her back on the counselors. “I’ll, uh, work over here.” They didn’t question her. The Detective took a look over her shoulder. Fred and Daphne seemed occupied enough. She quickly pulled the baggie out of her pocket and kept it close to her chest. She didn’t want Lucifer to be out of commission for the rest of the trip, but she did need him to calm down.

Chloe considered the bag in her hand. How much should she give him? Lucifer seemed to have a higher tolerance than humans. But did the fact that she was around mean that he’d be more susceptible to the drugs? “They do not train you for this at the academy,” Chloe mumbled. She carefully pulled the marijuana out of the bag and held it in her hand, still considering.

“Hey, Detective, do you need anymore cheese?” Fred asked.

Chloe jerked and dropped every bit of the marijuana in Lucifer’s sauce. “No, I’m fine!” she hurried to reply.

“Just checking.”

The Detective looked down at the sauce. Well, that answered that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you readers on the West Coast are doing okay. Scary times.
> 
> For the rest of us, here are some ways to help with the raging fires.  
> California Fire Relief  
> Red Cross  
> Wildfire Relief Fund  
> Oregon Fire Relief  
> Wildland Firefighter Foundation  
> United Way in several impacted counties


	10. “ZOINKS!”

“Like, wow, man, this is the best pizza ever.” Lucifer finished his umpteenth slice. Chloe had lost count a while ago. “And I was there when pizza was invented.” Lucifer snorted, gave Fred a hearty clap on the back, and dug into another slice. Maybe Choe should have left him in the closet? She had to bribe her way in with the first pizza, the special pizza. Lucifer had tentatively accepted her offer, but only after she’d promised to stay there for protection as he ate. Slowly but surely the Devil had started to relax, which was a huge relief to the Detective. But then his newfound ease had transformed into something else, something goofy and annoying and now he was back in the dining room with everyone else, eating them all out of house and home. He’d eaten his pizza, half of her pizza, and she was pretty sure he’d eaten Krenshaw’s pizza. Now he’d turned his attention to the extra pizza, which wasn’t really extra because Chloe had just remembered she was supposed to take that pizza to Officer Wilkes. Well, shit.

“Something is different about this room,” Lucifer pondered around a mouthful. He turned on his little stool, highly amused by the motion. “Wee!”

“We hung up the kids’ art to dry,” Daphne pointed out. She indicated a line of drippy landscapes on the back wall.

“Oh, I love art.” 

“It’s not art,” Fred commented, and Daphne gave him a look. 

The Devil was undeterred. Lucifer grabbed another piece of pizza and went to examine the art more closely. Chloe watched him as he got right up on each picture. He’d tilt his head from one side to the other and make comical exclamations. Yeah, she’d definitely overdosed him. At least he was relaxed, right? He’d even left his racket in the closet. With any luck, he’d fill up on carbs and pass out for a nice nap.

“What is Lucifer doing?” Theresa asked.

“Yeah, what’s gotten into him?” Angelique gave Chloe a pointed smirk.

“He just really likes pizza,” Chloe replied.

Much to the Detective’s horror, Trixie got up and walked over to Lucifer. “Whatchya doin'?”

“Looking at this amazing art.”

“This is amazing?” Trixie raised her eyebrow in concern.

“Yes, look at these bold streaks of color.”

“You mean the gray? We used all the gray. It was raining.”

“Brilliant!” Lucifer took a giant bite of his pizza. “Which one’s yours?”

“This one.” Trixie pointed to her picture.

“Well done, urchin.” Lucifer patted her on the head.

“Why do you call me that?”

“Call you what?”

“Urchin.”

“You are a mischievous young child, are you not?”

“I guess so, but you don’t call any of the other Scouts that.”

“Of course not,” Lucifer laughed. “You are my favorite small human, so I call you urchin.”

“I’m your favorite?” Trixie smiled.

“I need more pizza.” Lucifer realized his hand was empty. He’d finished another slice.

“What’s going on over here?” Chloe couldn’t take it anymore. She had to come over and check on them.

“Look what your offspring did.” Lucifer pulled Trixie’s picture from its clothespin and showed it to her.

“I saw. It’s very good.”

“Lucifer says I’m his favorite,” Trixie beamed.

“Put this on the ice box of honor.” Lucifer tried to hand the picture to Chloe. “Isn’t that what maternal humans usually do?”

“Yes, but it has to finish drying first.” Chloe took the picture from him and hung it back up.

“Lucifer, you have paint on your hand,” Trixie pointed out.

“Oh, look at that.” Lucifer held his finger up in front of his face and moved it in and out. “Whoa.” He started doing the movement to Trixie. “How many fingers do you see?”

“Is Lucifer okay?” Trixie looked back at her mom.

“He’s fine. We’re all fine.”

“I’m right as rain, urchin, but pizza would make it even better.” The Devil hurried back to the pizza he’d left behind.

“He’s fine, Monkey,” Chloe assured again.

“I told you not to call me that.” Trixie huffed and returned to her seat. 

Chloe sighed. “So, he can call you urchin, but I can’t call you monkey,” she muttered. 

The rest of the meal seemed to pass without incident, thankfully. Lucifer was occupied with his pizza and Fred and Daphne were weathering his antics and weird statements pretty well. “What do you think Catherine will do tonight?” Fred asked at one point. 

“Ugh, I don’t even want to think about it,” Daphne shuddered. 

“Catherine? Catherine?” Lucifer was trying to place the name. “Oh, yes, the ghost child.”

“I bet we’re in for a bumpy night,” Fred quipped.

“Fred, shut up.” Daphne tossed her napkin at him.

“We don’t have to be. We’re in control here.” Lucifer leaned into them conspiratorially. “You’re the counselors, right?”

“Yes?” Fred was confused.

“And I’m the Devil.” Lucifer smiled. “We’ve got this covered. We just need to make our intentions known.” He cleared his throat and stood up on the table. “Excuse me, room full of humans and any dead people who might be listening, I have an announcement to make.”

“Lucifer get off the table,” Chloe hissed.

“Just a moment, Detective.” Lucifer looked around the room. “This announcement is specifically for Catherine, aka the ghost child. We know you’re here, and honestly, you’re kind of being a drag. Hate to say it, Catherine, but the turd in this punch bowl is you. And I, for one, am tired of it. I don’t know how these people have put up with you all this time. So, if you can just move on or bugger off, or whatever it is ghosts do when they stop being annoying, it’d be great. Okay? Good talk.” Lucifer started to get down from the table when the door they’d left propped open for better airflow slammed shut with a bang. Almost everyone in the room screamed.

“Zoinks!” Lucifer screeched.

“What did you say?” Fred asked.

Brad gave Chloe a look and she hurried to help her partner down from the table. “Lucifer’s just being silly. Ha ha. How ‘bout that draft, huh?” She started to lead Lucifer to the door when Brad intercepted them.

“I don’t know what’s going on with him, but he shouldn’t be around the kids.” The camp director was teetering on the edge of incensed. 

“He’s going to go help the other officer. Don’t worry about it.”

“You’re a drag, too,” Lucifer told Brad. Chloe took the Devil by the hand and pulled him out the door that had just slammed shut. It seemed fine now.

“Wilkes, come in, are you there? Over,” Chloe spoke into her radio. 

“Still here. Looking forward to that pizza. Over.”

“Can you come over here and pick Lucifer up? Over.”

There was a moment of silence on the other end. “I thought I wasn’t allowed to leave my post. Over.”

“I’m making an exception. Your pizza is ready, come and pick it up,” Chloe lied. “Lucifer will go back with you for a while to the old site.”

“Okay. Be there in a minute. Over and . . . Oh, wait, can I have some soda, too, something with caffeine? Over.”

“Yeah, sure. Over and out.”

“There’s more pizza?” Lucifer looked hopeful.

“You stay right here,” Chloe instructed. “You do not move from this spot, and I will get you all the pizza you can eat.” Lucifer pointed to where he was standing, a dopey grin plastered across his face.

Against her better judgement, Chloe darted back into the dining room. She bypassed all the weird looks and went straight to the kitchen. She grabbed the nearest bag she could find and filled it with all the snacks she could reach. She also snatched several cans of soda. She’d reimburse the camp later. In less than two minutes, she was running back through the dining room, bag slung over her shoulder. “Detective . . .” Brad started, but she brushed right past him.

Lucifer was still in the same spot, but he was on one knee tying his shoe. “They were the only laces I had available,” he told the air. Task completed, he stood and turned to face Chloe.

“Who were you talking to?”

“A small human. She pointed out my shoe was untied,” he explained.

Chloe looked back at the dining room. She could see all the Scouts through the window. There were all in there. “Now you’re just delusional,” she sighed. She took Lucifer by the arm and directed him outside. It was still pouring rain. She hoped Wilkes would be able to make it over safely.

“Is the pizza in the bag?” Lucifer attempted to take the bag from her.

“No, these are snacks. Snacks for Wilkes because you ate his pizza.”

“But you promised me pizza,” the Devil pouted.

“I didn’t say when you’d get more pizza,” Chloe defended.

Fortunately, Wilkes pulled up, his tires spinning slightly in the mud. “Come on.” The Detective took her partner’s arm and steered him to the car. She tossed the bag of snacks to Wilkes and loaded Lucifer into the passenger seat like he was under arrest. “Watch your head.”

“What’s this?” Wilkes looked in the bag. 

“Snacks to get you through the night.”

“What about my pizza?”

“I ate your pizza, Officer Wilkes. I apologize.” Lucifer looked and sounded sincere. “If it makes you feel better, it was delicious.”

Wilkes eyed the other man for a moment. "What’s up with him?”

“Nothing. We just thought you could use some company for a bit.” Chloe was having a hard time meeting Wilkes’ gaze. 

“Uh huh.” Wilkes set the bag down. “Whatever.”

“Can we run the siren?” Lucifer reached for the switch, but Wilkes stopped him.

“This is my car. You don’t touch anything.”

“Thanks, Wilkes. I’ll check back in a bit. I’d keep an eye on that snack bag,” Chloe advised as she quickly closed the door. She turned and hurried back inside. She couldn’t feel bad about this. Now was her chance to actually investigate what was going on in the camp. Lucifer would be occupied for the next hour or so and then hopefully he’d be asleep.

When she returned to the dining room, the Detective knew exactly where she was going. “Hey, Velma, can I borrow that book?”

Velma turned and looked up, straightening her glasses as she did. “The book about the camp? Yeah, sure.”

“Can you get it for me now?” Velma nodded and stood. “We’ll be right back,” Chloe told Gloria as they passed.

Inside the bunk room, Velma dug through her bag. Chloe took the moment to look around. She recognized Trixie’s bag and the bedazzled jean jacket. She noticed several of the stones were missing. “What happened to the jacket?”

Velma hesitated for a second. “Claire and Trixie had a disagreement, but it was an accident.”

Chloe surveyed the room. She realized that Velma and Trixie were removed from the rest of the girls. They all seemed to be bunked closer to Claire’s bed, which was covered in clothes.

“The missing rhinestones are in her bag. She can fix it,” Velma assured. She offered the book to Chloe.

“Thank you.” The Detective took the book, but she lingered a second longer, trying to discern what this sleeping layout and the busted jacket meant. 

“Breaker, breaker, one nine. We’ve got a celestial in distress out here. He’s hungry and he’s bored,” Lucifer spoke into the squad car’s radio.

Wilkes took it from him. “Stop touching things. Here, have another bag of chips.” He shoved a bag of chips into the Devil’s hand. At the rate they were going, the snacks would be gone in fifteen minutes.

“Oh, more crisps.” Lucifer smiled and attacked the bag with the same ravenous appetite he’d attacked the last two.

Wilkes pulled a soda out and started to drain it. At least there was caffeine. “Thank God for caffeine,” he commented.

Lucifer made a face. “You people give my father credit for everything.”

“So, what’s it like over there at the other site? Anything interesting going on?”

“There’s a ghost child, but she’s a real bummer,” Lucifer remarked.

Wilkes’ eyes grew wide. “For real? You’ve seen the infamous ghost of Camp Wildbegone?”

Lucifer finished his bag of chips and held his hand out expectantly for another. Wilkes rolled his eyes but obliged. “No,” Lucifer replied in answer to the question.

Wilkes was disappointed for a number of reasons. “That wasn’t worth another bag.”

The Devil ignored him. “What’s going on over here?”

The officer looked out his windshield. “Well, there’s an old building and some rain and another old building. And look, more rain. That’s what I’ve got.”

Lucifer took a moment to consider as he munched. “Which building is the oldest, do you imagine?”

“Man, I don’t know. They’re all old. I’m just trying to stay awake.” Wilkes finished his first soda and opened another. “Don’t tell Decker, but I was dozing off earlier. I was so out of it, I almost thought I saw you out there.”

Lucifer looked at him. “What? Mind blown.” He made an explosion noise accompanied by hand gestures. 

“Yeah, but I knew it couldn’t be you, because you were back at the other camp.”

Lucifer shook his head. “Like, wow, man.”

Wilkes almost choked on his drink. “What did you say?”

“Like, wow, man. That’s too much for me.” Lucifer tipped back the bag of chips and finished off the crumbs.

Wilkes started laughing. “Oh, this is too good.” He hurried to fish out his phone. He opened his video app and hit record. “Say that again.”

“Why?”

“I’ll give you more chips.”

That was all Lucifer needed to hear. “Like, wow, man.”

“Now say zoinks.”

Lucifer’s eyes lit up in recognition. “I said that earlier! It just came out. Zoinks!”

Wilkes guffawed. “Say, ‘Scooby Doo, where are you?’”

“Scooby Doo, where are you?”

Wilkes was laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe. “Oh, I can’t. I can’t.”

There was a noise outside and Lucifer looked up. “What was that?”

Wilkes looked out the window. “That’s a raccoon.” 

Lucifer picked up the car’s loudspeaker and spoke into it. “Attention, adorable trash panda, stop what you’re doing. Come over here and I’ll give you a crisp.”

“Oh, Decker drugged you,” Wilkes giggled.

“Can we do the lights, make them go round?” The Devil was giddy.

“Sure, why not?” Wilkes switched the lights on, and Lucifer clapped his hands.

A few hours later, Wilkes returned a snoozing Lucifer to Chloe at the main campsite. “You drugged him, didn’t you?”

Chloe ignored his question. “Thanks for taking him for a few hours. I hope he was helpful.”

“He ate all the snacks and accosted a raccoon.”

Chloe passed Wilkes another bag. “There’s an actual sandwich in there.”

“Appreciate it. I might actually get to eat now.”

The Detective reached in and started to wake her partner. “And don’t worry about drugging him. Corcuza did that to me once, too,” Wilkes imparted.

“Lucifer, come on, it’s bedtime.” Chloe lightly shook the Devil until he roused.

“Detective.” He smiled at her. It was warm and genuine. “I saw a trash panda.”

“Yeah, you’ve had a big day.” She gently pulled him out of the car. “Why don’t you thank Officer Wilkes for the nice time.”

“Thank you, Officer Wilkes.” Lucifer looked back and waved.

“Don’t forget, zoinks!” Wilkes laughed again. Chloe closed the door and the squad car drove off into the rainy night.

The Detective was just able to get Lucifer to their closet before her collapsed. He hit the cot harder than she’d intended him to, but he’d be all right. Chloe tucked his feet into the room and closed the door. That task was done. Hopefully, he’d wake refreshed and ready to help. The Scouts and parents had also bunked down for the night, too. Following pizza, they’d had an indoor campfire with s’mores and silly stories as opposed to scary stories.

The counselors had just turned in for the evening. Chloe had asked Sarah to leave her tablet with her so that she could keep tabs on everyone. Brad was working in his office and Krenshaw was cleaning in the kitchen. The Detective knew where everyone was. She was determined to keep it that way all night.

Chloe returned to the now quiet dining room. Her book and a strong cup of coffee were waiting for her. She sat down and picked up the book. She was almost through it. It was a quick read and a good read. Chloe was convinced now more than ever that the camp staff had used Catherine’s mysterious death to create the “hauntings” that were currently going on. She suspected Amber’s death was somehow attached to all this. If she could figure out what had actually happened to Catherine, she might have the clue she needed to solve Amber’s murder.

The Detective had reached the part of the book where Catherine was down in the caves. The locals recalled the rainstorm that led to the floods. It had rained for days and days. It sounded eerily similar to the weather they were currently experiencing. A local farmer had told the paper that the camp staff had finally realized Catherine must be in the caves, but they couldn’t get there because of the rising water. They’d gone around, asking everyone they could for rope. They thought if they could get into the old well, they might be able to pull her up and out that way.

“We all took off for the well, tying this rope together, but then there was this sound, almost like a train underground,” the farmer explained. “It was a rumbling, shook the earth. But it wasn’t an earthquake, it was the water finally letting loose. It had nowhere else to go, so it filled those caves. We knew then we were too late. Any chance we had was gone. And a day later, her body washed out.”

Why was Catherine in the caves in the first place? That was the question on everyone’s mind. The campers knew not to go into the caves unsupervised because they were dangerous. That gold miner had drowned in them and countless other people had been hurt. And Catherine would have known that better than anyone because she’d grown up around the camp. Catherine’s mother was certainly convinced the other girls had led her daughter astray. A theory soon developed that the girls had gotten her into the caves with the promise of treasure.

Chloe set the book aside and thought for a moment. She pulled the copy of Treasure Island, Catherine’s favorite story, out of her back pocket and opened it. She removed the note and opened the book to the first number printed on the note. Another hour passed. Krenshaw left the kitchen and announced he was going to bed. Chloe barely acknowledged him as she worked on. By 11:00 p.m., she had cracked the code. The numbers on the note did correspond with words in the book.

The Detective admired her handy work. “Take to the caves for the treasure you seek. Your heart’s desire is waiting for you there. Take heed and move with haste. Tarry and the treasure will slip away, never to be found again.”

“What treasure were you looking for, Catherine?” Chloe asked. “And who wrote you this note?”

She set the note down and stretched her arms and back. She cast a glance to Sarah’s tablet and noticed that the wristband security program was no longer running. Chloe jumped to her feet. She grabbed the tablet and made a beeline for Brad’s office.

“I know. I know. The Internet just went out.” The camp director had been expecting her. He was hurrying to plug the bands’ extra transmitter directly into his computer. “We’ve got a backup system, remember?”

Chloe nodded and watched over his shoulder as the transmitter reported the information directly to the main computer. “Site 2-4-0, this is Ranger Station 3, come in. Over,” the radio crackled. Brad left the computer and went over to the radio.

“This is Site 2-4-0, we’re here. Over.”

“How are you all holding up? Still got power? Over.”

“Still have power, and we’ve got our generator, too. Over.”

“Great. We’ll try and have the access road cleared by tomorrow, but this rain isn’t making it easy. You all aren’t going to the caves, right? Over.”

“That’s a negative. We haven’t been to the caves in years. Over.”

“Good. They’re going to flood. It’s just a matter of when. You all stay safe. Ranger Station 3, over and out.”

Brad hung up the radio and looked back at Chloe. “Everything’s going to be fine.” At that moment, the power went out. “Son of a bitch.”

Brad fumbled around his office and found his flashlight. He held his hand up to try and calm the detective. “Hold on, the generator will start in a minute.” So, they waited and then they waited some more. Nothing happened.

“Brad . . .” Chloe started.

“Son of a bitch,” Brad repeated. He grabbed his raincoat and hurried out of the office. He tossed Chloe a spare flashlight on his was out. “I’m going to check the generator,” he told her.

The Detective stood in the hall, not sure of what to do. She didn’t hear stirring in any of the bunk rooms. With the help of the flashlight, she opened the first door, and all she heard were the sounds of slumber. The Scouts weren’t even aware. She opened the second door and heard the same thing. Chloe took a breath and stepped back into the hall. She would just wait for Brad to come back and tell her what was going on with the generator. She could wait for another moment or two. There was no reason to cause a panic.

Chloe shot a worried look back at the main door. A noise caught her attention and she whirled around to look down the hall. A sheepish Daphne was creeping down the hallway, flashlight in hand. “Sorry,” she whispered. “Have to go to the bathroom. Is the generator not working?”

“Brad’s checking on it.”

Daphne nodded and hurried into the bathroom. She could worry about that after she peed. A second later, Fred left his room and looked around. “What’s with the lights?” he asked Chloe. 

“Brad’s checking on the generator. Keep your voice down, I don’t want to wake the Scouts.”

“Good idea,” Fred whispered. He shuffled off to the bathroom.

“Daphne’s in there.”

“Oh.” Fred yawned and leaned against the wall.

Sarah poked her head out of her room at the end of the hall. She turned on her flashlight and hurried down to where Chloe was. “Is the generator not working?”

“What, have your all’s bladders synced or something?” The Detective looked from Fred to Sarah. “Brad’s working on it,” she said for the umpteenth time.

Sarah looked at the front door. “Maybe I should go help him.”

Chloe was about to answer her when a flash of something caught her attention. The Detective looked down the hall and there was someone else there now, but it wasn’t anyone she recognized. It was a young girl in a white dress. She was standing at the very end of the hall, and she was looking directly at them.

The Detective’s words died in her throat. Daphne opened the bathroom door and was about to step out when she saw the figure, too. She stifled a scream and closed the door, locking it behind her. “Daph. . .?” Fred started to ask, but then he saw the figure. He pulled on the door, but it was locked, and Daphne was not about to open it and let him in. Fred let out a silent shout and jumped up on the nearest piece of furniture. He did his best to become a part of the wall.

Sarah covered her mouth to quash her scream and the Detective put her finger to her lips, encouraging them all to stay quiet. Chloe took a tentative step forward. The girl at the end of the hall didn’t move. She just kept staring at them. Chloe shone her light up at the walls, looking for a hidden camera, a mirror, anything that would help explain what she was looking at. The girl at the end of the hall turned her head and looked away. Chloe stopped her investigation. Why had the girl moved?

“It’s a trick. It’s a trick,” her mind tried to calm her. The Detective looked around for anything she could easily throw. She found a discarded Nerf ball that had escaped the confines of the dining room. She slowly bent down and picked it up. 

“No, don’t,” Sarah whispered.

Chloe sent the ball sailing through the air. Her dad would’ve been proud of that pass. The ball hit its mark and went straight through the girl at the end of the hall. She looked down at the ball and then right back at Chloe. She seemed to take a step closer.

“Now you’ve done it,” Sarah squeaked. 

A soaked Brad entered through the main door. “Generator’s flooded,” he announced, and Sarah and Fred shushed him. Brad looked down the hall and jerked back.

“It’s a trick. It’s a trick,” Chloe’s mind tried again. She took a step and the figure took a step, too. This brought the Detective to a halt. Panic was starting to creep in and cloud her better judgement. She swallowed hard.

At that moment, Lucifer opened the closet door and stepped out into the hall. He rubbed at his eyes and yawned. Man, it was dark. What time was it? Also, where was the bathroom around this place? Stupid, mortal problems rearing their ugly head. Lucifer took a step and realized Chloe was in the hall, too. “Detective.”

“Lucifer, come here,” she whispered. She waved her hand, trying to get him to come over quickly.

Lucifer’s head was a little fuzzy. It was sort of like a post party haze, but he hadn’t done any partying. “What time is it?”

“Lucifer, come here,” Chloe repeated.

“It’s so dark in here. Thank goodness for celestial eyesight.” Lucifer rubbed the back of his neck and did the one thing Chloe had been praying he wouldn’t, he turned around.

The Devil froze as he locked eyes with the figure at the end of the hall. He was now the closet one to her. His fears from earlier crashed over him like a tidal wave. He turned back on shaky legs and looked at Chloe.

“Don’t . . .,” she started to say, but it was too late.

“G-G-G-GHOST!” Lucifer screamed. His scream opened the floodgates and then everyone else around Chloe was screaming, too.


	11. One Wild Night, Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Sorry it took me a hot minute to post this chapter. Life got busy, but I have this upcoming weekend to keep plugging away at this story.

“G-G-G-GHOST!” Lucifer’s scream was the straw that broke the terrified camel’s back. Suddenly everyone was screaming. There was a crash from the second bunk room as the parents were roused from their sleep. They banged around in the dark. Gloria made it to the door and stumbled out into the darkened hallway. She saw the figure at the end of the hall and started screaming, too. Then all the parents seemed to be in the doorway, gaping and screaming, adding to the overall cacophony of chaos. Chloe couldn’t hear herself think.

And then just like that, the figure was gone, but the noise was still there. The Detective jumped on the figure’s sudden departure and sprang into action. She turned her attention to the parents first. “Gloria, Gloria, listen to me! Get your flashlights and go in there with the girls. They have to be awake and scared.” The Troop leader was in shock and didn’t move at first. “Gloria, go!” 

“I’ll help!” Sarah ushered the startled parents into the first bunk room.

Just as Chloe had suspected, the Scouts were right there at the door. “What’s going on?!” Helena asked.

“Why is it so dark?” Georgia wanted to know.

“Why was everyone screaming?” Velma inquired. 

“We’re all going to bunk together. Won’t that be fun?” Sarah explained. “Let’s make sure everyone has their flashlight. The power’s out right now, but it will come back on soon.”

“What was all the screaming for?” Trixie asked her mom.

“People got spooked, that’s all. Nothing to worry about, Monkey.”

Trixie looked around the hallway. “Where’s Lucifer?”

Chloe sighed. Her partner had bolted. She’d seen him disappear back into their sleeping closet and close the door as soon as the figure had disappeared. She wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. “He’s uh, checking on some things. Go on back in the room, Monkey, get some sleep.”

“I told you not to call me that,” Trixie griped, but she did as instructed.

Chloe tossed her arms up in the air. Even in a potentially paranormal crisis, she couldn’t win with her daughter. The Detective turned her attention to Brad who was still standing shell-shocked near the entryway. “Brad, Brad, has that ever happened before?”

Brad blinked and seemed to return to the present. “Uh, no, not that I’m aware of.”

There was a crash down the hall, and everyone jerked. “What now?” Chloe asked. 

Two things happened at once. Lucifer practically kicked the door to the closet down and burst out of the room, a catcher’s mask on his face and his arms full of various sporting equipment, and Krenshaw appeared out of nowhere in his flannel pajamas. Fred screamed again and Chloe shouted at the younger counselor. “Stop it! And get down from there.” He was still standing on the end table he’d hopped up on.

“What is going on?!” Krenshaw wanted to know.

“Where have you been?” Despite his overflowing arms, Lucifer managed to swing a hokey stick at the groundskeeper.

“What the hell are you doing?!”

“Both of you, get over here!” Chloe instructed.

Lucifer hurried over to her. He dropped his arm load of “weaponry” and attempted to put a batter’s helmet on her head. “It might be snug,” he warned.

She attempted to shoo him away as he tried to force the helmet on her head. “Lucifer, stop it.”

“I’m trying to protect you,” Lucifer insisted.

“Have you all gone mad?” Krenshaw asked. 

“Did you see her?” Fred pressed the older man as he tentatively stepped off the end table. 

“See who?”

“The ghost!” Lucifer shouted at him.

Krenshaw’s eyes grew wide in the light of the LED lamp he was carrying. “Miss Catherine, she was here?”

Further down the hall, a picture fell off the wall and most of them screamed again. “That’s enough!” Brad exclaimed, finally stepping up to the plate. “Everyone needs to calm down, right now.” He walked over to the bathroom door and pulled on it. “Why is this door locked?”

“Daphne’s in there,” Fred informed the director.

Brad knocked on the door. “Daphne, you have to come out. It’s all right.”

Another picture fell off the wall and there were more screams. Lucifer picked up a frisbee and sent it sailing down the hall. It clattered against the back wall, prompting Fred to scream again. In the midst of the new chaos, Brad took his master keys out of his pocket and unlocked the bathroom door. He was greeted with a hand straight to his nose, breaking it instantly. Next, he received a swift kick to his sternum that sent him flying backwards and connecting with the wall behind him. Brad slid down and hit the floor.

Daphne burst out of the bathroom and in the light of the Detective’s flashlight, she realized what she’d done. “Oh my gosh! Brad, I’m so sorry! Everyone was screaming, and it’s dark, and I panicked.”

Lucifer looked from the downed director to Daphne. “I pick her for my team.”

Chloe knocked on the door to the first bunk room. Sarah answered, which was good. That’s who she was looking for. “What’s wrong?” the head counselor wanted to know as soon as she saw the Detective’s face. “We heard a bang.”

“Everything’s fine, but where do you keep your first aid kits?”

Ten minutes later, Chloe was placing the instant cold pack on Brad’s nose. They’d managed to get him into his office and on the couch. “How are you feeling?” she asked.

“I don’t know what hurts worse, my nose, my chest, or my head,” he winced.

“Brad, I am so, so sorry,” Daphne repeated for the umpteenth time.

“Don’t apologize, that was impressive,” Lucifer chimed in. Chloe shot him a look in the dark.

“Take a deep breath for me,” the Detective instructed. Sarah had brought her a stethoscope in addition to every first aid kit she could find. Chloe didn’t have a lot of paramedic training, but she knew some basic things from her time on the job. “Does it hurt when you breathe?” She didn’t hear anything disconcerting in Brad’s breathing. He probably just got the wind knocked out of him.

“No,” he replied.

“Good. Now follow this light with your eyes.” Chloe shone a pin light in his eyes and moved it from side to side. His pupils were mostly round and reactive. “You might have a slight concussion, and your nose is definitely broken.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Brad complained.

“Keep the cold pack on there for a while. We’ll get you some pain meds.” Chloe looked in the kits at her disposal. Shockingly, none of them seemed to have any medical tape. “Sarah, do you have any medical tape? I was going to try and tape up his nose.”

“Uh, yeah, there’s got to be some around here” Sarah started to dig through the cabinets in Brad’s office. Chloe joined her. A stack of boxes fell out of one and Fred screamed.

“You have to stop,” Chloe told him. “Why don’t you all wait in the hall?” The rest of the staff and Lucifer left the room. Chloe looked down at the mess of boxes. “Makeup kits?”

“Yeah, for the campers’ skits,” Sarah explained as she took the box from her.

“Why are they all old age?”

“What?”

“They all say old age kits.”

“We order in bulk. We have monster ones and princess ones, too.”

“Ghost ones?” the Detective pressed.

“Here’s some medical tape.” Sarah handed Chloe a roll. 

“You know anything about taping up a broken nose?”

“I’ve got younger brothers, so, yeah.”

Chloe handed the tape back. “Then have at it.” She stood up and ventured out into the hall where the others were waiting just outside the office.

“Do you think I still have a job?” Daphne asked Fred.

“If he fires you, I’ll hire you,” Lucifer told her. “You can work security at the door.” He handed her the hockey stick from his arsenal. “You get the hockey stick.” He looked at Fred and was not filled with confidence. “You get this ping pong paddle, maybe stay behind Daphne.”

“How’s Brad?” Daphne asked Chloe.

“He’ll be all right. Can you go and ask Angelique for a pain pill, nothing too strong.”

“Okay.” Daphne nodded and left for the first bunk room.

“Detective, do you want the baseball bat or the croquet mallet?” 

Chloe sighed and pulled her partner aside. He was still wearing that stupid catcher’s mask. “Lucifer, what are you doing?”

“Arming us. We have to be prepared for when the ghost child returns.”

“I tossed a ball through it, Lucifer, so I’m not sure what good a bat is going to do me. Also, I don’t think it’s real. I don’t think any of this is real, besides Brad’s injuries.”

The Devil could not be dissuaded. “Did you not see that thing at the end of the hall?”

“Ghosts aren’t real,” Chloe persisted.

“Two years ago, you would have said angels and demons weren’t real, either, but here I stand.”

Chloe was silent for a moment. “We’re going to figure out what’s going on here, but it’s not ghosts.”

“Here’s the medicine you asked for.” Daphne returned to their side.

“Thanks. Can you take it to, Brad, please?”

“I’m not sure he wants to see me.”

“Give it to Sarah.” Chloe didn’t mean for her voice to sound so stern. She was trying to keep the stress from getting to her.

“Okay.” Daphne slunk off.

Chloe continued to look at her partner. It was hard to see his eyes through that damn mask. “I need to know we’re on the same page here, Lucifer.”

“We’re not, Detective. Supernatural forces are at play here.”

“No, they’re not,” Chloe hissed.

“How’s Brad doing?” Krenshaw asked, pulling another one of his sudden reappearance acts. 

“How do you do that?!” Chloe snapped at him. The man had a giant, glowing lantern and he still managed to catch them off guard. “Where have you been?”

“I was changing out of my jammies.”

“We do appreciate that,” Lucifer remarked.

“And where were you earlier?” the Detective pressed. It just occurred to her that the groundskeeper had not been accounted for during the figure’s appearance. 

“I was asleep. Why do people keep hounding me?”

“And you didn’t see the supposed ghost at all?” Chloe asked.

“Ghost child, and she’s very real,” Lucifer interjected.

“I told you, I didn’t see Miss Catherine.” Chloe’s eyes narrowed and Krenshaw looked offended. “You think I’m the ghost? Do I look like a ten-year-old girl to you?”

“Don’t answer that. It’s a trick question,” Lucifer replied, and they both stared at him.

“Guys! Come here! The ghost is back!” Daphne exclaimed as she hurried out into the hall.

“Don’t look at me, I’m standing right here,” Krenshaw told the Detective.

Chloe ignored him and they all piled back into Brad’s office. Daphne pointed through the blinds on the window and out onto the lawn. “What’s going on?” Brad asked as they all crowded around. Sure enough, there was Catherine, only this time she was out on the lawn, looking up at them. She was emitting a pale, unearthly glow, and the rain didn’t seem to faze her at all. 

“Miss Catherine,” Krenshaw whispered.

“Ghost child, be gone!” Lucifer shouted at the window.

“What do you think she wants?” Daphne whispered.

“Who do you think she wants?” Fred asked. The room got silent fast.

“I vote for Brad,” Lucifer commented. “He’s the weakest now, the most obvious choice. No offense.”

“I’d protest, but the meds are kicking in,” Brad replied, his voice slightly slurred. 

“She doesn’t want anyone or anything,” Chloe enforced.

Catherine was suddenly gone again, and they all jerked back. “Where’d she go?” Sarah wanted to know.

“That’s it, I’m taking care of this now.” Lucifer turned and walked out of the room.

“What are you doing?” Chloe followed after him.

“Believe it or not, Detective, I’m praying. A supernatural event needs otherworldly reinforcements.” Lucifer closed his eyes and started to pray.

Chloe rolled her eyes and walked away. She knew what she needed to do. She pulled her walkie talkie out. “Wilkes, come in, over.”

“Hadn’t heard from you in a minute, Decker. Everything okay? Over.”

“I need you to come to the main campsite, over.”

“Why? Over.”

“I need your assistance, over.”

“Just to confirm. You want me to leave my post, over.”

“I am temporarily reassigning you to the main campsite. Now get over here. Over and out.” Fortunately, Wilkes didn’t have a witty retort. Chloe took a breath and secured her walkie talkie on her belt.

Lucifer let out a frustrated grunt from behind her. “I can’t get out!”

“What?”

“I can’t get an outside channel to anyone, Amenadiel, Azrael, anyone!” The Devil was on the verge of panic once more. “That ghost child must be blocking my signal!”

“Lucifer, that doesn’t make any sense.”

“She’s back!” Fred shouted and the two of them hurried into the office. For the next several minutes, they all watched as Catherine appeared and disappeared on the lawn. 

“Hello?” Wilkes called from the entry way. “Anybody home?!” This time, Lucifer screamed.

“It wasn’t me this time.” Fred was proud of himself.

Chloe stepped out into the hall and shone her light. “Down here, Wilkes.”

“The power out?”

“What took you so long to get here?” Chloe wanted to know. The other officer was soaked.

“I couldn’t drive my car over. Everything’s too wet. I had to walk.”

“Did you see anything on the lawn?” the Detective pressed.

“Like what?”

“Never mind.”

“So, what’s up?” Wilkes asked when he reached her.

“Too many things.” Chloe led him into the office. 

“Is he all right?” Wilkes shone his light at Brad who was passed out on the couch.

“Yeah, we’re waking him every hour just to be sure,” Chloe explained like the maimed director was the least of their worries.

“What is Lucifer wearing?”

“A catcher’s mask,” Chloe sighed.

“Why?” Wilkes pressed.

“We really don’t have time for this.” The Detective felt her frustration mounting.

“Wilkes?” Lucifer was surprised. “You called Wilkes over?” He looked at his partner.

“I need someone who has their head in the case, Lucifer,” Chloe told him even though it was difficult. “I need someone who’s not distracted.”

“Detective . . .” Lucifer didn’t know what to say.

“She’s back again,” Fred reported from the window.

Wilkes looked outside and jerked back. “Jesus Christ, what is that?!” He hurried to pull a crucifix out from under his jacket and uniform and held it tight with one hand, crossing himself with his other hand.

“Believe me, that does nothing,” Lucifer informed him.

This time Catherine did more than stare at them from the lawn. She turned and started to walk. She moved slowly and methodically to a nearby building and seemed to disappear inside.

“What’s that building?” Chloe asked.

“The bunk house,” Sarah replied. “It’s for big groups. We’re not done renovating it yet.”

“What does Miss Catherine want in there?” Krenshaw wondered.

“The treasure,” Chloe whispered.

“What’s that?” Lucifer looked at her.

The Detective refused to look at him. She turned her attention to Wilkes instead. “Wilkes, Wilkes, are you all right?”

“Yeah, I’m – I’m good.” The other officer swallowed hard.

“I need you to stay here and keep an eye on the counselors. The parents and Scouts are in the first bunk room. I’m trusting you with their protection, do you understand?”

“Yes.” He nodded.

“And just where are you going?” Lucifer wanted to know.

“I’m going to that bunkhouse,” Chloe announced as she left the room.

The Devil was hot on her heels. “What?!”

The Detective rounded on him. “Lucifer, you have to trust me. This is all scripted. They want us to go over there. It’s another piece to the puzzle, a puzzle I have to figure out so I can solve the mystery behind Catherine’s death so I can figure out who murdered Amber.”

“We have to figure out. We’re a team, remember?”

“Are we?”

Lucifer removed the catcher’s mask, his eyes open and earnest. “Always.”

Chloe took a breath. “Then let’s go to the bunkhouse.”

Lucifer hesitated, and he hated himself for it. That was all the Detective needed to know. “No, it’s okay, you stay here. I’ve got this.” Chloe snatched her rain jacket and was out the door into the rainy night.

Lucifer shifted uncomfortably. Why was he so scared? This made no sense at all. He was the Devil for Dad’s sake. “Oh, bloody hell,” he snarled before taking off into the night after her.

Fred watched them go from the window. “Daphne, can I see you out in the hall?” He left the office and his fellow counselor joined him. 

“What?”

“We can’t let them go over there alone. This is our camp, and we have to defend it.” He held up his ping pong paddle.

“Yes,” Daphne agreed. “But maybe change out the paddle for the bat?”

“What are you doing here?” Chloe asked as Lucifer joined her at the bunkhouse door.

“We’re partners, right?” 

Chloe couldn’t help but smile. “Always.”

“Right, then.” Lucifer lifted his leg to kick the door in.

“Wait, we don’t have to kick the door in. I took the keys from Brad.” She used her flashlight to locate the right key.

“We’re coming with you!” Fred called from across the lawn. Fred and Daphne were both slip-sliding their way to them. Fred was brandishing the baseball bat.

“Go back to the main house,” Chloe told them when they reached the door.

“No way we’re going back,” Fred protested. “This is our camp. We’re going to defend it. Catherine had her day.”

“Yeah,” Daphne echoed.

“Fine, just keep your heads low.” Chloe was apprehensive, but she didn’t think there was any immediate danger lurking inside the bunkhouse. “And watch it with that bat.”

The door swung open to another dark building. Chloe shown her flashlight around. “There are two floors?”

“Yes,” Fred confirmed.

“Okay, two of us go up and two of us stay down,” the Detective decided.

“What? Split up?” Lucifer was suddenly less sure about all of this.

“Quick search. Check every room, look for anything odd, and stay with your partner at all times,” Chloe instructed. “Come on, Daphne.”

“You’re leaving me with Fred!” Lucifer was aghast. “No offense, Fred. But Daphne kicks so much higher.”

“You’ll be fine,” Chloe assured him. She leaned in close and whispered in his ear. “You’re the Devil, remember?” She pulled away. “But do call out if you need help.”

“Oh, pish, we’ll be fine,” Lucifer boasted. “Right, Fred?”

Fred swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice from cracking. “Right.”

Chloe moved out and Daphne followed her up the stairs, leaving the boys alone. “You, uh, going first?” Fred looked at Lucifer. 

“You know the building better than I do,” the Devil pointed out.

“But you’re the police officer,” Fred countered.

“Civilian consultant,” Lucifer corrected. “If we’re bringing up careers, you’re employed as a counselor here.”

“Yes, I am.” The two of them continued to stand there in silence, not moving.

Upstairs, there was movement. Chloe took the lead, opening doors and moving into the rooms. Very few of them had furniture. Many of them just had boxes with furniture still inside, some assembly required. The Detective pushed open another door to find it also full of boxes, but they didn’t contain furniture. They were full of random, unpacked craft supplies. “What is with this place and stacking random shit everywhere? The old campsite, this campsite.”

“I wouldn’t know about the old campsite,” Daphne commented. “Sarah doesn’t let us go over there. She said it was dangerous. And after what happened to Amber, I guess it is.”

“Yeah,” Chloe agreed. She moved into the new room, sweeping her flashlight around the space. Daphne hung back at the door. “You okay?” Chloe looked back at the other woman.

Daphne took a deep breath. “I, uh, have a fear about confined spaces. It’s - all these stacked boxes.”

“Wait there. It’s okay.”

“No.” Daphne shook her head. “It’s a stupid phobia.” She took another breath and stepped into the room.

Chloe moved past a stack of boxes to find, much to her surprise, a rather ornate fireplace. “What is this doing here?”

“Whoa, that’s a nice fireplace.”

“You don't fit this room. You don't fit this building. Why are you here?” The Detective stepped forward and felt along the marble surface. The wooden mantel was intricately carved. She pressed on a flower carved into one of the columns and suddenly the whole fireplace turned, taking her with it. Chloe swiftly found herself on the other side of the wall, but she wasn’t in the room they’d just checked out. She was inside the wall.

“Chloe?! Are you all right?!” Daphne shrieked on the other side.

“Yeah, I’m fine, Daphne.” Chloe shone her light around. There was nothing there, not even any cobwebs, which made her think this space had recently been constructed. “Bingo,” she commented.

“Should I get Fred and Lucifer?!”

“No, just hold on a minute.”

“Is there air?! Can you breathe?!”

Chloe took a deep breath. There seemed to be plenty of air, which further confirmed her suspicions of what this space had really been designed for. “Yeah, there’s lots of air.” The passage in the wall turned to the left and continued down a narrow corridor. “Daphne, there’s a passage back here.”

“What? Why?”

“We’re going to find out. I’m going to walk a ways and then knock on the wall. You follow me and knock back when you hear me, okay?” Chloe instructed.

“Okay.”

Chloe knocked on the wall to demonstrate and Daphne knocked back. The counselor left that room and walked to the next. Chloe took a few steps and knocked on the wall again. Daphne answered back from the adjoining room. They repeated this pattern for two more rooms, and then Daphne opened the door to the second to last room. They’d looked in there already and there had been boxes, but they hadn’t been stacked like this, she would have sworn to it. The boxes were now stacked in such a way that there was only a slim path from the door to the wall. Daphne’s breath caught in her chest.

Chloe knocked on the wall from the other side. There was no answer. “Daphne?”

“Daphne,” a voice spoke from behind the counselor. She jumped and turned around. Lucifer was standing behind her in the dark. He evaded the beam from her light, but she knew his figure and voice by now.

“Oh, Lucifer, thank God. Chloe’s stuck in a passage in the wall. We’re trying to see where it goes.”

“Daphne?” Chloe knocked again.

“I know where she is, and she’s going to need your help,” Lucifer told the counselor.

“Why? Wait, where’s Fred?”

“He’s hurt, but not to worry. I’m going to get him help. You have to get the Detective out of that wall and back to the main house, do you understand me?”

“Yes.” Daphne nodded. She took a shaky breath and looked back at the room and its boxes. 

“All you have to do is walk through that narrow passage, that narrow passage with those boxes. Beds in those boxes are rather heavy. I wager to say they’d crush you, if they were to close in on you, or fall on you. But that won’t happen, right? Just take a deep breath and don’t think about how big they are, how close they are, or how it’s so dark, you can’t really tell if they’re moving or not. You wouldn’t know until it was too late, and you were being squished.”

Daphne couldn’t breathe. She felt lightheaded and her chest was so tight. She slid down the doorframe and curled in on herself on the floor. “Good luck,” Lucifer quipped. Daphne was so paralyzed with fear, it didn’t even occur to her that Lucifer’s parting words were not in an English accent.

“Daphne, are you all right?!” Chloe called from inside the wall. The counselor could not respond.

Downstairs, Lucifer and Fred had finally come to an arrangement. Back to back, they moved through the hall, turning the entire time so that no one was in front or behind. They turned and inched their way to each room. One of them would kick the door open and they’d both peek inside really quick, shine their lights around, and move on. Halfway down the hall, they encountered something that made them both jump. It turned out to be a large laundry hamper.

“For the bedding,” Fred explained.

“We never tell anyone it startled us,” Lucifer stated.

“Affirmative.”

They continued on, checking room after room. The pair had almost reached the end of the hall when Fred came to a halt. He pulled away from Lucifer. The Devil stopped and looked back. “What? What is it?”

Fred wrapped his arms around his chest. “Cold, it’s so cold.”

Lucifer could feel it now. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Fred watched his breath in the beam from his flashlight. “I can see my breath,” he squeaked.

“We-we can’t panic.” Lucifer wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince the counselor or himself.

“Did you hear that?!” Fred whirled around, shining his light at the ceiling.

“What?!”

“I don’t know it sounded like a laugh, or footsteps, or . . .” His words died in his throat. He was too scared to continue.

Lucifer looked all around. The atmosphere in the hallway was oppressive, but he didn’t see anything. Still, he was filled with dread, absolute dread. He couldn’t explain it. The Devil stopped turning and locked eyes with Fred. They were both breathing hard. Without any provocation, Fred screamed and started running, and then Lucifer was screaming and running, too. He didn’t know why, but it felt like they were being chased. Fred ditched his baseball bat and threw himself into the industrial laundry hamper. The Devil followed right after him. The bunkhouse was quiet after that, save for the Detective trapped in the wall upstairs.


	12. One Wild Night, Part Two

All of these events take place at relatively the same time, but in different locations.

Downstairs in the Laundry Bin

Lucifer and Fred were crammed into the laundry bin, barely daring to breathe. A large sheet shielded them from the world on the other side. “Did you see anything?” Fred hazarded to ask after a moment. 

“I don’t know,” Lucifer confessed. He didn’t think he had seen anything, but he really didn’t know. There had to be a reason as to why they’d bolted, though.

“But you heard it, right, that sound?”

“I definitely heard something.” The Devil couldn’t describe the noise, but he’d heard it.

Fred swallowed hard. “I think I felt something.”

“Like what?”

“Like a hand, or a claw . . .”

Lucifer gasped. “Like a small human’s talon?”

“Do you think Catherine has claws?” Fred was equally terrified and confused. “Why would she have claws?”

“Ghost children can have anything they want. That’s why they’re so unpredictable.”

Fred wished he had the room to move and see if he’d actually been clawed, but he wasn’t about to get out of the laundry bin. “Oh, man.”

“Do you think you’re bleeding?” Lucifer pressed.

The counselor was silent for a second. “No, I don’t think I’m bleeding.” His voice got deathly serious. “Am I okay?”

Lucifer shook his head. “I don’t know. If you start to show signs of possession or turn into a small human yourself, I’ll have no choice but to strangle you with this sheet.”

Fred groaned. “Can I tell you something? I don’t even like kids.”

Lucifer was relieved. “Thank you. Everyone around here thinks they’re so wonderful. Awful creatures if you ask me.”

“I only took this job because I’m saving up to buy a car,” Fred confessed.

“I don’t know what my father was thinking when he invented small humans,” the Devil continued. “And now he’s created an undead version. Maybe I should have stayed in hell.”

“I didn’t even like kids when I was one,” Fred kept divulging, not really listening to what Lucifer was saying.

“I was created ageless, so I dodged that bullet.”

“I could quit, you know, find another job, one without germy, grimy kids.”

They were both quiet for a moment. “I feel a lot of truth in this laundry bin, Fred. I appreciate that.”

“Yeah, me, too.” There was a bang somewhere overhead and they both attempted to sink further into the bin. “How long do you think we can stay in here?” Fred tentatively asked.

“I can stay forever, but you’re going to have a problem eventually,” Lucifer replied.

“Do you think Daphne and the Detective are okay?”

Lucifer gave a lopsided smile. “I daresay they’re fairing better than we are.”

“Yeah, probably,” Fred agreed. They were quiet for another moment, just listening to the darkness around them. “I don’t want to stay in this hamper forever.”

“What do you desire?” Lucifer asked before he could really think about it. He realized how close the other man was to him. “Oh, blast, this could be embarrassing.” There was no taking it back now, though.

“I-I want to buy my neighbor’s van. He’s got a classic 1972 Ford Econoline E200. It’s beautiful, just needs a new paint job.” 

“Oh, that’s not too bad. Odd choice in vehicles. I prefer something with a little more horsepower myself.”

Fred blinked. His head felt fuzzy. “What were we talking about?”

“Not staying in this bin forever.”

“Yeah.” The counselor took a breath as he considered their current situation. “There has to be something we can do, right?”

“Yes, we can figure this out,” Lucifer decided. He forced himself to seem determined. He wished his usual bravado and confidence would resurface, but it was still buried beneath a level of unease the likes of which he had never experienced before. “What does one do to rid themselves of a ghost child?”

Fred chewed on his fingernail, a nervous habit he hadn’t revisited in some time. “An exorcism?”

Lucifer mulled it over. “I suppose I could do that. What do we need?”

“A Bible.”

“Know it word for word. Which translation is best? Probably King James. People are annoyingly partial to that one.”

“And some holy water,” Fred added.

“What makes it holy?” Lucifer wanted to know.

“I think a priest has to bless it.”

“I could stick a feather in it, or spit in it, I suppose,” Lucifer mumbled.

Fred shook his head. “I don’t know. I think she has to be possessing a person or something for an exorcism to work.” Another idea occurred to him. “What if Catherine wants what she never had as a kid, a chance to grow up?”

“So, you’re saying we should give her one of the other small humans as a host body?” Lucifer punched Fred in the arm. “Brilliant!”

“When you say it like that, it sounds kind of mean.”

“No, this is splendid. There’s a room full of small humans over there, and honestly, it’s time they started pulling their weight. Which one do you think is the best choice?”

Fred hesitated. “Claire intentionally stepped on my heel three times.”

“All right, so she’s first choice.”

Upstairs in the Wall

“Daphne, I’m going to get out and help you! Stay put, wherever you are!” Chloe instructed from the other side of the wall. She didn’t know why the counselor had gone quiet, but she couldn’t panic about it. She had to stay focused and concentrate on getting out. Shooting the wall up and breaking out from the inside was the last option. 

Chloe quickly followed the corridor to its end. It stopped at what she presumed was the end of the bunkhouse. “What is the point of this, to run along inside the wall and scare everyone?” She had really thought there would be a second exit, a way for someone to get from one room to another quickly. Nope, there was nothing here but wall. 

The Detective shone her light around the space. There was a piece of paper hanging on the wall. It was plans for a second exit that hadn’t been cut yet. Chloe pulled the blueprint off the wall and stuffed it in her jacket pocket. “Idiots.” As she turned to head back to the fireplace, her light glinted off something on the floor. Chloe knelt down and discovered a dust-covered wooden box. Nothing else in the space was dusty, but this planted box certainly was. “Idiots,” she repeated.

Chloe carefully opened the box. It looked like a little treasure chest. Inside there was another folded piece of paper. She unfolded it to find a list of names. Some were circled and some were crossed out. “Great, now what does this mean?” This was the second clue for sure in Catherine’s mystery game, but it required further investigation.

A cold chill ran down her spine and she shivered. The bunkhouse was still quiet around her, but there was this undercurrent of noise. She couldn’t place it. She couldn’t even be sure it was an actual noise. It was more like a feeling. That feeling spurred her on. Chloe pocketed the small chest, too, and took off back down the passageway. “I’m coming, Daphne!” she called again.

When Chloe reached the fireplace, she took a breath. “Okay, there has to be a release here somewhere.” She began to feel around with frantic hands.

Back in Brad’s Office

Officer Wilkes nervously played with his flashlight. Brad was still passed out on the couch, snoring heavily through his broken nose. Sarah and Krenshaw kept exchanging silent looks. This was the most awkward room Wilkes had been in in a while. He needed to get out, to do something, be helpful. “I’m, uh, going to check out the rest of the building. Make sure the Scouts are okay.” He stood, hoping his legs weren’t shaking as much as he thought they were. 

As he stood, his flashlight flickered off and went dead. “Oh, come one.” Wilkes hit the light and it flashed once before going out again. “I hate the dark!” he said before he could stop himself. No one needed to know that the police officer assigned to protect them had a silly fear of the dark.

“We’ve got spares,” Sarah assured him. She reached in a drawer and pulled out another flashlight. She traded with the officer.

“Thanks.” Wilkes cleared his throat. “You all stay here. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He turned on the new light and left the room. “Corcuza really owes me,” he mumbled as he inched down the hall.

Sarah waited a moment after he was gone. She looked at Krenshaw and he nodded. Sarah hopped on Brad’s computer and brought up the program she was looking for. Krenshaw stayed near the door, watching for Wilkes. “How’s it going?” he asked.

“Program’s running like it should,” Sarah observed. “Power still appears to be out. Scouts and parents are in bunk room one. Based on heart rate, parents seem more scared than the kids, but it’s nothing out of the ordinary.”

“How are our friends in the bunkhouse?”

Sarah clicked on another screen. “Fred is downstairs. Doesn’t seem to be moving at the moment. Heart rate is elevated, but not bad. The fireplace passage has been activated. Must have been the detective because Daphne is in the hall upstairs.” A thought occurred to her and she looked back at the groundskeeper. “You did remember to take those plans down in the passageway, right?”

“Of course, I did,” Krenshaw insisted. At least he hoped he had. Yeah, he’d totally remembered to take those down. “I don’t know why we had to send them to the bunkhouse. It’s not ready.”

“It’s how the program’s scripted,” Sarah reminded him.

Krenshaw rolled his eyes. “Oh, yes, the all-mighty program. Takes away all the spontaneity. Back when you were a camper, it was just the basics, doors tied to strings, fog machines, and sheets.”

“It was hokey, and everyone could see through it,” Sarah interjected, “even an eight-year-old.” She looked back at the computer screen and her eyes grew wide. “Oh, Daphne’s really scared. Her heart rate is way up there.”

“How are the others?” Krenshaw moved away from the door and approached the computer.

“Fred is all right, and Lucifer and the Detective don’t have bands on.”

“That level’s not too high, is it?”

“What level?”

“That stupid, ambient noise thing we’re pumping into all the rooms.” Krenshaw was flustered.

“Yeah, it’s at the right decibel for maximum creep factor, nothing more.”

Krenshaw crossed his arms around his middle and pondered. “We should shut it down.”

Sarah was astounded. “What? No! The program is running fine. Daphne will be all right. Just give her a minute.”

“If she doesn’t have a heart attack. That’s probably what happened to Amber. Fear will kill you if you let it.”

“There’s nothing set up at the old campground,” Sarah reminded him.

Krenshaw huffed. “Amber had her imagination, that was enough.” He continued to watch the computer screen. “I knew this was a bad idea, testing this program with the police here.”

“It was Brad’s idea,” Sarah protested.

“We need to shut it down.” Krenshaw reached for the computer, but Sarah pushed him away.

“No! It’s working. If we stop now, we all go to jail and the camp gets shut down, and I won’t let that happen!” The head counselor turned back to the screen. “I would never let anything happen to this place.”

“Why don’t we ask Brad what he wants?” Krenshaw looked over at their director. “Oh, that’s right, he’s passed out after Daphne attacked him. That wasn’t a part of the program, was it?”

“Shut up. This is working. I’ve been able to explain everything, including your stupid make up kits that you forgot to move,” Sarah hissed.

Krenshaw gave a futile laugh. “If our cover gets blown, at least I’ll finally get to act my age.”

“Congratulations, Vincent,” Sarah called him by his real name. “You’ll be 52 instead of 75.”

Krenshaw’s eyes narrowed. “I liked it better when you were a camper, and I could boss you around.”

Sarah’s watch beeped and she turned it off. “Shut up and check on Brad. It’s been an hour.”

Krenshaw huffed but did as instructed. He knelt down and nudged the other man until he roused slightly. “Hello, Brad, update for you. Sarah’s running the program and ruining everything, just as I always said she would.”

“That’s nice,” Brad slurred and promptly went back to sleep.

“Shut up!” Sarah grabbed the nearest item from the desk and threw it at Krenshaw.

He ducked and managed to avoid it. As he sat back up, he noticed which drawer Sarah had taken the flashlight out of she’d given Officer Wilkes. “Wait, did you give that police officer a real flashlight or one of our rigged ones?”

Sarah looked back over her shoulder. “Shit. Never mind, he’ll be fine.”

Out in the Hallway (just after Wilkes left Brad’s office)

Wilkes checked on the Scouts and parents first. They seemed to be all right, some of them were even asleep. He envied them. He’d like to be asleep, too, tucked away safely in his squad car. Once he was sure they were fine, he wandered around the dining room and kitchen. Nothing out of the ordinary there. Wilkes took a deep breath and returned to the hallway. He went room by room, skipping over the office. He opened the closet where Chloe and Lucifer had been set up. His feet stumbled over one of the cots as he entered the room, and he shone his light down to see what he was caught up in. His light began to flicker, and the door closed behind him.

“Shit!” Wilkes shook his light, but it wasn’t working. “Oh, come on!” He hit it a couple of times. It came back on for a moment, just long enough for him to realize someone else was in the room with him. “Ah!”

“Calm down, Wilkes, it’s just me,” a familiar voice spoke.

“Lucifer, what are you doing in here?! I thought you were in the bunkhouse.” The officer kept futzing with the light, desperately trying to get it to work. This closet was really dark.

“I was, but I came back. It was scary over there.”

“Where’s Chloe?”

“Still over there investigating.” The angel watched the other man for a second. “Problem with your torch?”

“Yeah, it’s broken. Can I borrow yours?”

“Left mine in the bunkhouse, I’m afraid.”

“Great,” Wilkes muttered.

“You afraid of the dark, Officer Wilkes?”

“Yeah, but don’t Chloe.” Wilkes turned and felt for the doorknob. When he found it, he gave it a tug, but the door did not open. “Why won’t this door open?”

“It sticks sometimes,” Lucifer divulged. “This is a bad time for it, isn’t it? It’s so dark in this closet, and we’re stuck in here with it. Come to think of it, this is darker than the bunkhouse. It’s so dark, I can’t see my hand in front of my face. Nothing but blackness, like the vast, emptiness of space or the black abyss of the ocean deep. No one can hear you scream there. That’s the kind of darkness that suffocates, makes you wonder if you’ll ever see anything again.”

Officer Wilkes started to hyperventilate. His shaking hands fiddled with his flashlight once more. It came back on for one, brief second and shone a blast of light directly into his eyes. Then everything was dark again. The sudden change in light made it even darker and black spots floated in front of his eyes. Wilkes screamed.

“There you go. That’s the sound a man makes when he’s succumbed to the dark. That desperate, lonely sound. Ta, now.” And just like that, the angel was gone, leaving Wilkes alone.

“Lucifer?!” Wilkes cried out. He stumbled back into the shelves, knocking various pieces of equipment into the floor. He managed to find the door again and pulled on it. Fortunately, it opened this time. He stumbled out into the hall. He couldn’t see anything. He’d never felt so lost and alone. “Lucifer?!” he called out again. “Help! Anybody!”

Krenshaw stepped out of the office with his lantern. “Officer Wilkes, what’s wrong?” The officer was lurching around wildly, his arms flailing.

“I can’t see anything!”

Krenshaw reached out and took his arms. “Steady there, it’s just me.” He held his lantern up next to the Wilkes’ face. His eyes constricted in the light, but he was staring straight through the groundskeeper, like he didn’t see him at all. “Can you see this?”

“See what?”

“My lantern?”

“No. I can’t see anything,” Wilkes sobbed.

“That’s not good,” Krenshaw commented.

“What’s wrong with me?!”

Troop leader Gloria opened the door to the first bunk room and peeked out. “Everything okay?”

“No!” Wilkes replied.

“We’re all good,” Krenshaw spoke over him. “Go back to bed.”

Gloria didn’t seem convinced, but she retreated back into the bunk room. Krenshaw walked Wilkes slowly back until he was against the wall. “Here, sit down on the floor.”

“Why can’t I see anything?!”

“I don’t know.”

“You have to get me some help,” Wilkes pleaded.

“Yep, that’s what I’m going to do. Go on, sit down,” Krenshaw instructed and the officer sank down to the floor. 

Krenshaw started to let go and Wilkes grabbed his hand. “Don’t leave me out here!”

The groundskeeper looked around and noticed the discarded croquet mallet from earlier. He picked it up and placed it in Wilkes’ hand. “Here, take this croquet racket. I’ll be right back.” Wilkes held onto the mallet like his life depended on it and Krenshaw hurried into the office.

“You’ve got to shut it down,” he spoke into Sarah’s ears.

“No. Daphne’s fine now. She and Fred are on the move again.”

“You have to shut it down!” Krenshaw hissed.

“What’s wrong?”

“That officer is out there with some kind of hysterical blindness!” Krenshaw gestured to the hallway.

“What?!” Sarah jumped to her feet. She looked down at the computer. “I don’t understand. Nothing is supposed to be that scary. What is going on?”

Meanwhile in the Bunkhouse Laundry Bin

“What are we doing?” Fred wanted to know.

“Making a list of victim children to present to the ghost child as a sacrifice,” Lucifer replied like it was the most obvious thing.

Fred shook his head. “No, we can’t do that.”

“No, I suppose you’re right,” Lucifer agreed, Dan’s stupid words about responsibility echoing in the back of his head. “We’ll keep it as plan B.”

“We have to get out of this laundry bin,” Fred insisted. Maybe it was the painful cramp in his neck or the fact that the air under the sheet was good and stale, but Fred was ready to chance whatever was waiting for them outside the hamper.

Lucifer knew he was right. “On the count of three, we burst out of here.”

“Yes.”

“We check that final room, then we get the Detective and Daphne, and we return to the main building triumphant.”

“Yes!” Fred cheered but then faltered. “Triumphant over what?”

“Just triumphant!” Lucifer enforced. “One, two, three,” he counted. A breath after the last number, they threw the sheet off and jumped out of the laundry hamper. They walked straight to that last room, no more of that back to back nonsense, and the Devil flung the door open with a bravado he hadn’t felt since the previous morning. 

As soon as the door opened, they were under attack. They both screamed and lashed out at their attackers. 

Upstairs in the Bunkhouse

“Come on. Come on.” Chloe reached up in the fireplace, her fingertips searching for anything out of the ordinary. Finally, she found the button she’d been looking for. Chloe pressed on it and the fireplace turned back around. She had returned to the room full of craft supply boxes. Now, to find Daphne.

Out in the hall, Daphne had had a chance to get her wits about here. What was she doing hunkered on the floor? The Detective needed her. She had to get up. She had martial arts training, for goodness sake. Surely, she could push some of those boxes over and out of her way. Daphne took several breaths and stood up. “Chloe!” she called out. 

She heard a bang from the other end of the hall and took off running that way. “Chloe, I’m coming to help you!”

“Daphne, I’m coming to help you!” Chloe cried as she ran out of the room she was in and into the hall. The two women met each other halfway. “Are you all right?!”

“Yeah, sorry, I got scared. Lucifer freaked me out.”

“Lucifer did what?”

“Hey, you got out of the wall.”

“Yeah, there was a release in the fireplace,” Chloe started to explain. They were interrupted by the sound of the boys screaming downstairs. The two of them exchanged a look and took off running down the stairs.

Lucifer and Fred were exchanging multiple blows with their foes, and they seemed to be winning. They quickly began to realize, however, that they had been fighting a stack of pillows and blankets that had fallen out when they’d opened the linen closet door. When Chloe and Daphne reached them, they were untangling themselves from the blankets. The ground was covered in feathers and there was still some in their hair. Chloe stifled a laugh.

“Detective, the first floor is clear,” Lucifer told her, swatting a feather from his shoulder.

“Don’t tell anyone,” Fred pleaded with Daphne.

“I’m just glad you’re all right.” She walked up and gave her fellow counselor a hug. Fred blushed. Daphne whirled around and punched Lucifer in the arm.

“Ow!”

“You told me he was hurt, and you freaked me out upstairs.”

“I did what?”

Daphne’s light shone into the closet and she screamed. Chloe looked into the closet and saw what had frightened the counselor. It was a hazmat like suit, complete with shoe covers. The Detective reached in and pulled it out. “What is this?”

“The construction crew would wear them sometimes to protect their clothes. Guess they left one behind,” Fred reasoned.

“Why was someone hiding it in here?” Chloe asked.

“Uh, guys,” Daphne spoke up. She was looking back down the hall. They all followed her line of sight. Catherine was silently watching them from the other end of the hall. She watched them for a few seconds before turning and leaving the building. They waited all of a second more before following after her.

Outside the Main Building

Michael chuckled as he put the final touches on his creation. “This is too easy.” The hood of his poncho hung over in front of his eyes and he huffed as he pushed it back. It was easy except for the rain. “It’d be better without all the rain. I mean, we get it, Dad, geez.” 

The Archangel admired his handy work. “All right, that’s ready to go.”

Inside Brad’s office, Sarah was confused. “I don’t understand. Nothing is supposed to be that scary. What is going on?” There was a noise outside the office window, and she looked up. In the light of Krenshaw’s lantern, she was greeted with a truly terrible vision. She couldn’t describe it. She could only scream.

“What?! What is it?” Krenshaw looked over at the window, but he didn’t see anything. “There’s nothing there! What’s your problem?”

“No, there was something!” Sarah protested.

Michael held up his creation again. He’d made it using bits and pieces of whatever he could find at the old campsite. It was truly odd and discomforting, like a scarecrow gone terribly wrong. This time Krenshaw saw it, too, and both humans screamed.

“What’s going on?” Brad awakened and sat up groggily.

Sarah stumbled back away from the window, her hand pressing a button on the computer. “Oh no.” She looked down at the screen to see what she’d done. 

“What? What’d you do?” Krenshaw pulled his attention away form the window. Whatever it was that had startled them had disappeared again.

“I called Catherine back over from the bunkhouse. I’m sure they’ll follow her back.”

“Well, stop her,” Krenshaw insisted.

“I can’t. The command’s already been given.”

Outside, Michael kept his creation low. He looked up to see the ghostly hologram leaving the bunkhouse and making its way across the lawn. “That’s impressive,” he commented. “But no one does fear better than me.” Suddenly, there was a massive downburst of wind that sent the rain flying straight up.

Inside the office, the computer went blank. “What just happened?” Krenshaw asked.

“The power went out for real,” Sarah replied. She looked at the groundskeeper. “The generators are fine, right? Brad, did you actually check the generators earlier?”

The camp director was still groggy. “Check what now?”

Krenshaw’s eyes grew wide. “I forgot to cover the generators!”

“Vincent, it’s pouring rain!” Sarah was livid.

“I know! I know!” He searched for his jacket. When he looked up, that thing was back at the window. Krenshaw screamed, then Sarah screamed, followed by Brad.

Wilkes stumbled his way into the office. “Heads!” he screamed as he swung out with his croquet mallet. They all managed to duck. The mallet made direct, brutal contact with the emergency radio sending a shower of sparks into the air.

The Detective and her gang had gathered in the doorway to the bunkhouse. They had seen Catherine disappear suddenly, seemingly into thin air or rain. They’d been further drenched by the downburst of wind, and Chloe and Lucifer had seen the sparks fly in the main office. “Trixie!” they said at the same time.

The Detective and the Devil ran out of the bunkhouse. Everything was so wet, and their feet slipped in the mud. It was like being in a cartoon where you’re trying to run but not actually going anywhere. They both fell more than once before they were able to make progress.

Michael cackled softly as he watched them. He tossed his creation aside and pulled out his phone. “I am so glad I got this machine,” he commented as he filmed his brother falling more than once in the mud. “Oh, it’s kind of dark and you can’t really see,” he lamented. “Doesn’t matter, I’ll remember.” Michael smiled. When Lucifer was closing in, he put his phone away. “Time to make myself scarce.” The angel disappeared into the night.

“What’d I hit?” Wilkes wanted to know inside the office.

“The radio,” Sarah bemoaned.

“Sorry. I heard screaming,” Wilkes attempted to explain. He wasn’t even facing them as he was talking to them.

“What’s wrong with him?” Brad wanted to know.

“I really need to check those generators.” Krenshaw excused himself and ran out of the room. As he was on his way out, he passed a mud-covered Chloe and Lucifer on their way in.

“Where are you going?!” Chloe asked.

“To check the generators!”

The Detective couldn’t wonder about that right now. She was focused on Trixie and making sure she was okay. The two of them slip-slided their way from the front door to the first bunk room. “Trixie!” Chloe called out as she pulled the door open.

“Trixie!” Lucifer echoed her concern.

“She’s right here, Chloe.” Gloria led a groggy Trixie to the door.

Chloe was relieved. She reached out and took her daughter into her arms. Trixie instantly pulled back. “Why are you so wet?” She got a better look at them in the beam from Gloria’s flashlight. “Why are you covered in mud?”

“Are you okay?” Chloe asked. She didn’t care about anything else.

“Yeah. I’m okay, just sleepy.”

“Are you all right?” Chloe looked up at Gloria.

“We’re fine, Chloe. How are you?” The Troop leader was more concerned about the Detective.

“We saw sparks fly from the window,” Chloe explained.

“I don’t know what that was. We’ve all been in here.”

“Lucifer, you’re super muddy,” Trixie observed.

“Urchin, we need your help.” The Devil knelt down on her level. “If we were going to offer one of the Scouts as a sacrifice to Catherine, who should we pick?”

Trixie was about to say a name when Chloe pushed her partner back. “Lucifer!”

“She’s helping us,” Lucifer protested. 

Much to their surprise, Chloe’s cellphone rang. She pulled it out to see Ella was calling. Chloe blew Trixie a kiss and signaled for Gloria to take her back into the bunk room. “We’ll talk later,” Lucifer told the girl.

“Ella?” Chloe answered her phone.

“Oh my gosh! It worked,” Ella gave a sigh of relief.

“Why are you calling on my phone?”

“Because the landline at the camp won’t work and the radio won’t go through, either. I can’t even get ahold of Wilkes. I want to be sure you all are okay.”

“We’re fine, more or less. All present and accounted for, but we have to get out of here tomorrow, Ella,” Chloe pressed.

“Yeah, the road crew’s working on it. It’s supposed to stop raining in the morning, so that should help.”

“Lucifer, there’s a problem with the radio, go and see what that’s about,” Chloe whispered to her partner.

“No, I want to ask Miss Lopez a question.” He reached for the Detective’s phone.

“Chloe, I’ve got some updates on the case. There’s some weird things in the camp’s finances . . . .” That was the last thing Chloe heard as Lucifer took the phone from her.

“Miss Lopez, do you know how to get rid of a ghost?”

“Oh my gosh, you’ve seen Catherine?!” Lucifer could practically hear Ella cross herself and kiss her crucifix through the phone.

“Yes, and she’s grating on my last nerve. How do I get rid of her?”

“Lucifer, give me back my phone,” Chloe hissed and reached for the device.

“Salt can protect you,” Ella started, “and I would get . . . .” The call was dropped.

“Miss Lopez?” Lucifer looked at the phone.

Chloe snatched it away from him. She couldn’t get the phone to call back out. There was no signal. “Great. Thanks a lot.”

“Damn generator’s flooded!” Krenshaw announced as he returned. A drenched Fred and Daphne were hot on his heels.

“Yeah, Brad checked them already.” The Detective gave him an odd look.

“I checked them again,” Krenshaw hurried to explain. “And you need to check on your friend. He took our radio out.”

“Wilkes?” Chloe left Lucifer and followed the groundskeeper down the hall.

Lucifer stopped Fred and Daphne in their tracks. “You two, we need all the salt we can get our hands on.”

“What happened in here?” Chloe asked as she entered the office. In the beam from her flashlight, she could see the radio had been well and thoroughly smashed.

“Decker, you’re back!” Wilkes looked around for her.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s blind,” Krenshaw replied, like it was old news.

“What?!” Chloe took Wilkes by the hand and turned him to face her.

“I don’t know what happened, Chloe, I swear.”

“Generators are flooded,” Krenshaw whispered to Sarah. The head counselor grew pale.

“Sarah, get me the pin light from the first aid kit,” the Detective instructed. The other woman didn’t move. ‘Sarah!”

Sarah jerked and came back to herself. She managed to find the pin light and pass it to the Detective. “Come with me, Wilkes. I’ve got you.” Chloe carefully led him out into the hall.

“What do you want to do?” Krenshaw asked Sarah.

The head counselor was still pretty numb from all the recent developments. “We don’t have any power, no radio.”

“Fortunately, some of us know how to live analogue,” Krenshaw commented.

Sarah’s eyes grew wide. “You can’t be serious?”

“If we get caught, we go to jail, you said so yourself. There’s only a few hours left until daylight. Come morning, they’ll be so agitated, they’ll be overjoyed to leave. The LAPD will never want to look back. Twenty bucks says that little shit Jeremy confesses to murdering Amber in the end.”

Sarah didn’t have a reply for Krenshaw. She looked down at the floor. The groundskeeper pulled away from her and went to Brad. The camp director was struggling to stay awake. “Brad, can I take over operations here, do it like we used to when we first started?”

Brad blinked. “Do I have to do anything?”

“Nope.”

“Good. Carry on.” Brad gratefully slumped back over on the couch.

Krenshaw moved behind the director’s desk, pulling a panel out of the floor and reaching his hand down into the opening. He released a series of small levers inside. “Good thing we kept the old system connected. Now we do things my way,” he told Sarah.

Out in the hall, Chloe was shining the pin light in Wilkes’ eyes. They were constricting like normal, but he still couldn’t see anything. “You can’t see the light at all?”

“No!”

Chloe waved her hand in the light. “Can you see that?”

“I can’t see a damn thing, Decker!”

“Did you get something in your eyes?”

“No! It just happened,” Wilkes struggled to explain. “What’s wrong with me?”

Chloe hesitated to tell him her opinion. “I think it’s psychosomatic, hysterical blindness.”

“What?! How the hell does that happen?”

“Lucifer, come over here!” she called to her partner.

Wilkes made a face. “Oh, now you’re back!”

Lucifer was confused. “Yes, I just got back.”

“You left me in that closet!”

“I beg your pardon?”

At that moment, Sarah walked out of the office like a zombie. Chloe noticed her. “Sarah, what’s wrong?”

The head counselor slowly regarded her. “We’re trapped.”

Just then, the doors in the back of the hall began to open and close. Much to her surprise, Chloe screamed. Her nerves were on edge. Sarah screamed, too, and Wilkes hit the ground. The Detective felt sure that a lot of this was staged, but there was something else going on here, too, something Chloe couldn’t place her finger on, not yet. And it was that part, the part she hadn’t identified yet that scared her. The doors banged some more, and Chloe reached out, gripping Lucifer’s arm.

The Devil looked down at his partner’s unsteady hand and that was it. His annoyance bubbled over to a full, angry boil. It pushed all the fear away.

“That’s enough!” Lucifer shouted and the building went quiet. “I am done running, Catherine! Do you hear me?! I am covered in mud! I am not well rested! I have this fuzziness in the back of my head that usually comes with a little recreational drug use, but I haven’t had the pleasure of that this evening.” Chloe coughed a little, but he kept talking. “I’ve seen all your tricks, your banging doors, your ghostly walks. Is that all you’ve got?!” He was answered by more silence. “I’m not scared of you anymore, you or your ghost child talon.” With his final proclamation, all the doors opened at once and banged closed again. Most of them screamed, but not Lucifer. He smiled instead. “Challenge accepted.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am appreciative for your all's feedback. Thank you so much!


	13. Are You Sure This Plan Will Work?

Somehow the immediate silence was even more disturbing than all the banging doors. “Lucifer, what are you doing?” Chloe wanted to know.

“What I should have done long ago, taking charge,” her partner replied like it was the most obvious answer. And in the Devil’s mind, it was.

“You’re not scared anymore?” The Detective was starting to feel a little frightened herself. Wilkes developing hysterical blindness had really thrown her for a loop.

“No, now I’m annoyed and rather ticked off.”

“I’m scared,” Wilkes spoke up from his position on the floor.

“This is all the salt we’ve got, Lucifer.” Fred and Daphne joined them. Daphne was carrying a basket filled with all the saltshakers and a small container of Morton salt. Fred was dragging a large bag of salt.

The Devil was pleased. “Excellent.”

“What are you doing?” Chloe repeated as she picked up a saltshaker.

“Defeating a ghost child.” Lucifer took the shaker from her and examined its contents, like they were of profound importance. 

“I don’t know . . .” Chloe started, and Lucifer sighed.

“Shall we put it to a vote, then? Who here would like me to take over dealing with the ghost child?” He held up his own hand. As Chloe shone her flashlight around the hall, she saw that Fred, Daphne, a still zombie like Sarah, and even Wilkes on the floor had their hands in the air.

“Sorry, Decker, but I’m scared out of my gourd, and he volunteered,” Wilkes explained.

“Splendid, majority has it.” Lucifer turned his attention to the contents of Daphne’s basket and then the large bag. “This won’t work. We need to get all this salt into pourable containers.”

Fred had an idea. “We can use the pitchers from the kitchen!”

“Yes!” Daphne agreed. She started to go, but Lucifer stopped her.

“I’ll be taking this.” He removed the smaller container of Morton salt from her basket. “Off you pop.” The counselors hurried back to the kitchen.

“Seems like you’ve got this sorted. What would you like me to do?” Chloe was slightly annoyed but also strangely relieved. Lucifer was acting more like his usual self, and as frustrating as that could be, it was also comforting.

“Do what you do best, Detective, help people. Poor Wilkes needs some assistance.” Lucifer cast a glance at the floor.

“I would really like some assistance,” Wilkes echoed woefully.

Lucifer placed his hands on Chloe’s shoulders and squeezed gently. “You watch over the humans, and I’ll handle the otherworldly nuisance.”

“I’m going to take care of Wilkes, and then I’ll check back with you,” Chloe assured him. She helped her fellow officer up from the floor. “Come on, Wilkes.” She started to lead him back to the office. He kept taking staggeringly large steps. “What are you doing? We’re not walking up stairs.”

“How would I know?! I can’t see.”

Lucifer popped the lid on his container of salt. “Right, first things first.” He walked over to the bunk room door and poured a stark line of salt across the threshold. That task done, he looked around for other, high priority locations. Sarah was still standing there, not doing much of anything. “Are you all right, Sarah?”

The head counselor blinked at him and stared for a good minute before responding. “Just questioning my life choices.”

“Fair enough.” Another moment of silence passed between them. “You could go and assist Fred and Daphne.”

“Oh, yeah.” Sarah nodded slowly and turned and made her way into the dining room.

“She really needs to get it together,” Lucifer commented.

Chloe stashed Wilkes safely in the office before paying another visit to Angelique. The Detective couldn’t help but smile at the line of salt outside the bunk room, even though she was pretty sure it wasn’t going to do anything. Angelique broke one of her sleeping pills in half and handed half to Chloe. “I don’t want him to sleep for days, just a few hours,” Chloe clarified as she accepted the medication.

“Oh,” Angelique reconsidered. She took the half back and broke it a second time. She handed a quarter piece back to Chloe. “I’m starting to feel like your drug dealer,” Angelique laughed. Chloe did not laugh in return. “Probably shouldn’t joke like that with a police officer.”

“No.”

Chloe took the small pill back to the office and convinced Wilkes to take it. “And this will restore my sight?” He was skeptical.

“I don’t know, Wilkes, but if you fall asleep, maybe your brain will reset. And I figured you’re not going to sleep without help,” the Detective reasoned.

“Good call.” Wilkes swallowed it and then laid back on the bedding Krenshaw had arranged on the floor. Brad was still passed out on the couch, which was also his bed.

“I want you to stay in this office and keep an eye on them,” Chloe instructed the groundskeeper.

Krenshaw gave a small smile. “Suits me.” And it really did. Unbeknownst to her, most everything he needed was in that room. 

“You don’t leave without telling someone first,” she pressed. Chloe didn’t like that smug look on his face. She didn’t want to reveal her hand too early, but a well-placed hint might make him wonder and wipe that look off his face. The Detective reached into her jacket pocket and pulled the instructions she’d found in the secret passage out. “Just remember . . .” Her voice faltered as the paper crumbled in her hands. It’d gotten soaked in the deluge. Great, there went a nice piece of evidence.

“Remember what?” Krenshaw wanted to know.

“Just remember to tell someone if you need to leave,” Chloe repeated in frustration.

“I understand, Detective. No need to repeat yourself.”

Chloe shook the wet paper off her hand and into the nearest trash can. She turned to leave, and Lucifer was right there, pouring a line of salt across the threshold of the office. “Krenshaw is going to stay in here and keep an eye on Brad and Wilkes,” she told her partner.

Lucifer surveyed the room. “Lovely, it will be a hospital/creepy groundskeeper wing.” Krenshaw scowled at him but didn’t say anything. He had plenty of tricks waiting up his sleeves, though.

Chloe stepped over the line of salt and joined the Devil in the hallway. “What’s next in your plan?”

“First, we block Catherine’s access to any of the other rooms. Next time she manifests, she’ll have no choice but to stay in the hallway. Then, we trap her,” Lucifer explained.

“Trap her how?”

“We’re still working on that part,” he confessed. Lucifer led Chloe to the end of the hallway, right outside the dining room. A few chairs had been placed together and removed slightly from the back wall. 

“What’s this?”

“An observation point. You stand right there.” Lucifer pointed to the chairs and Chloe obliged. As soon she was situated, he walked around the chairs, using the last of his salt to create a large circle around her. “Most importantly, it’s a safe place.”

Chloe reached across the circle and pulled him close to her. She kissed him and held him for a moment. “Perhaps I should incorporate salt into our foreplay?” Lucifer mused as they pulled apart.

Chloe chuckled. She placed her hand on his heart. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Being a protector.” She gently touched his face. “But if you ever get salt in my bed, you’re sleeping on the couch.” 

“There are much better minerals for foreplay anyhow,” Lucifer quipped, and Chloe rolled her eyes.

When the Detective lowered her hands, she felt the small, wooden box in her other jacket pocket. She pulled it out and fortunately the paper inside it was nice and dry. “I still think part of this is staged. I know part of this is staged.”

“Then you solve that part and leave the rest to me. That’s what makes us such a great team. We can handle it all, from the mundane to the supernatural.” He smiled at her, and she wanted to kiss him all over again.

He started to step away, and she held onto his hand. “Lucifer, whatever this is, be careful.”

“Of course, Detective.” He squeezed her hand.

The counselors exited the dining room. Fred and Daphne were in the front, their arms wrapped around salt filled pitchers. Sarah was a step or two behind. “We’ve got five pitchers of salt, and enough to refill at least four,” Fred shared.

“Excellent!” Lucifer took a pitcher of salt from Daphne. “We need to put down a layer of salt in front of every door in this building, do you understand me? I don’t want Catherine to be able to hide anywhere. We’re going to flush her out.”

“Got it.” Fred was ready.

“We should implement a partner system. No one goes it alone,” Lucifer decided. “I pick Fred.” Chloe was surprised. That had not been his choice earlier.

“Yes! Dream team back in action,” Fred cheered.

“No offense, Daphne, but once you’ve shared a laundry bin of truth, you have a connection with that other person,” Lucifer imparted.

“Shared a what?” Chloe asked.

Lucifer looked at Sarah. She was not fully with them still. Daphne watched the head counselor, too, and made a face. “I don’t think Sarah’s up for this,” she whispered.

“You know what, we’ll have a little threesome. Sarah, you stay with Chloe in the circle here. I took the liberty of relieving Wilkes of his walkie talkie.” Lucifer held up the device before slipping it back into his pocket. “Call me, Detective, if there’s any trouble.”

“And vice versa,” she told him.

The three of them set off down the hall, pitchers of salt in hand. “Do you all have any squirty guns?” she heard Lucifer ask.

“You mean water guns? Yeah, we’ve got ‘em,” Fred assured. "Some pretty big ones, too."

“Marvelous!”

The Detective turned her attention to the head counselor. She did not look good at all. “Are you okay, Sarah?”

The girl turned her head slowly, tears glistening in her eyes. “I would never do anything to hurt this camp. Never.”

“I know.”

“Never,” Sarah repeated. A moment later, she was sobbing. “Why is this happening?”

“I don’t know,” Chloe replied. “But we’re going to figure it out.” She took Sarah carefully by the shoulders and encouraged her to sit.

“This was my safe place,” Sarah sobbed again. Chloe sat beside her and rubbed her back. She let her cry for as long as she needed. A few minutes later, Sarah took a steadying breath and wiped at her nose. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. There’s a lot going on.”

Sarah nodded but didn’t reply. She leaned back in her chair and got quiet. Chloe decided not to press her luck, not right now. She turned her attention to the wooden box she’d found, clue number two in Catherine’s mystery game. Chloe pulled the note out and read over the names again. “Sarah, do you recognize any of these names?” She showed the paper to the head counselor.

Sarah shook her head. “Not really, but the new dining room is dedicated to the Devrey family. They even have a plaque.” Sarah indicated the room behind them. “That’s a name on your list.” 

And sure enough, it was. Rebecca Devrey’s name was underlined and circled. It was also at the top of the list. 

“Where did you get that?” Sarah belatedly asked. It was almost like an actor forgetting a line in a script and going back to pick it up.

“In the bunkhouse. Odd, right?” Sarah only offered a weak nod in response. Chloe could go in for the kill now, but it didn’t feel right. If she waited long enough, Sarah would probably confess on her own. There was definitely a chink in the counselor’s armor.

There was silence again, and Chloe had a thought. She remembered the book Velma had leant her was still in the dining room. “I’ll be right in there, Sarah. I’m going to prop the door open.” The Detective stood and stepped out of the salt circle. She knocked down the doorstop to keep the door open and made her way through the darkened dining room. There was her book, right on the table where she’d left it when the Internet had gone out. 

Chloe picked up the book and flipped to the page she was looking for. She found the picture of the campers outside, the picture in which Catherine looked so miserable, the one that had flashed across the screen repeatedly earlier. (Man, had that really been the same day?) Chloe read the names written beneath the photo. Rebeca Devrey was one of the campers. All of the names on this list were campers in the photo. But why were some of them crossed out, while others were underlined? And why was Rebecca’s name highlighted above all the others? 

The Detective mulled this over as she walked to the far wall where the dedication plaque was. She’d seen it on one of her earlier explorations but had never paused to read it. “This dining space is dedicated in honor of the Devrey family. May campers gather here for fellowship and treat each other as family. May animosity never cross this threshold. In memory of our grandmother, Rebecca Devrey 1909-2009.”

“May animosity never cross this threshold,” Chloe read again. “That’s a lofty goal.” She looked back to the picture in the book as she tried to piece it together. “Catherine isn’t happy in this photo. Why isn’t she happy?” She was removed from the other girls, off on her own. What if they were mean to her? Was this a list of the girls who had wronged her? Was Rebecca the worst offender?

Chloe shook her head. No, that wasn’t it. Chloe hadn’t gone to public school, but she’d certainly been to camp, and she’d spent enough time around other girls. She knew the desire that came with meeting a popular girl and wanting to be her friend, wanting her to like you, to accept you as one of her own. What if this was a list of the girls Catherine wanted to be friends with? Maybe she felt like she was friendly enough with the names that were crossed off, but she really wanted to be friends with the others? Maybe she’d wanted Rebecca’s attention the most?

“How is this connected to the ‘treasure’ from the first clue?” Chloe seemed to have more questions than answers. Then it hit her. “The girls’ friendship was the treasure. They got Catherine into the caves with the promise of meeting her there.”

A chill ran down Chloe’s spine and she closed the book. She looked around the room, but all was still and quiet. She opened the book again when she heard it, almost a whisper, so soft it could have been a voice in the back of her own mind. “Have you checked the children?”

The Detective was suddenly gripped with fear, and she didn’t know why. The kids were fine, she knew they were fine, right? The voice asked again, “Have you checked the children?”

Chloe hurried out of the room. “I’m checking on the Scouts,” she told Sarah as she practically ran past her and disappeared into the bunk room.

Michael watched her leave from the kitchen door. “Oh, Chloe Decker,” he clucked his tongue. “We could have been something.” Her fear had been easy to read. He needed another challenge, but right now he was content to hang low and eat this . . .what was he eating? Michael looked at the ice cream carton in his hand. “Spumoni. Oh, this is good.” He took another spoonful. “I need to liberate more of this from that ice box.”

Inside the bunk room, all was relatively peaceful. Gloria asked her if everything was okay, and Chloe assured her it was. She hoped her voice didn’t sound as panicked as she felt. Some of the parents were awake, but others were asleep. Fortunately, all of the girls were asleep. Trixie was in her bed, curled protectively around her stuffed dinosaur. Chloe slipped in softly beside her. She was still muddy, but she’d tried to clean up a little bit earlier in the bathroom sink. Right now, dirty sheets were the least of her concern. 

Chloe rested her head on the pillow and gently placed her arm across her daughter. Her heartbeat instantly started to slow and the tightness in her chest and throat began to release. Trixie snuggled back against her, something the girl hadn’t done in a few years. It reminded Chloe of when her daughter was younger, of when she hadn’t wanted to sleep anywhere else but in her mother’s bed, curled up in her arms. Here was peace. Here was assurance. Chloe buried her nose in Trixie’s hair. This was her favorite place to be. And with that thought in her head, Chloe’s body relaxed, and she instantly fell asleep.

“Where’s the Detective?” Lucifer demanded to know after the camp had been thoroughly salted.

It took Sarah a moment to reply, and Lucifer was just about to shout into the walkie talkie, when Sarah stopped him. “She’s in there with the Scouts.”

“You two go in the kitchen and fill the cooler. Take the guns with you,” Lucifer instructed the other counselors. They’d made a quick stop at the activities’ closet and stockpiled every water gun the building camp had to offer.

“I thought we weren’t supposed to split up?” Daphne questioned him.

“You two aren’t, no,” Lucifer agreed. “I’ll only be a moment.” Fred and Daphne returned to the kitchen without further comment. “Sarah, are you still questioning your life choices?”

“Yes.”

“Carry on.” Lucifer made haste for the bunk room and quietly slipped inside. Gloria gave him a questioning look, but he placed his finger over his lips. The Devil moved quietly through the room. He found the Detective wrapped around her daughter. Normally such a site would repulse him. There was no reason why anyone should be that close to a small human, but in this instance his heart gave a little flutter instead. He smiled and gently stroked Chloe’s hair before leaving her to rest. She might be mad later that he didn’t wake her, but if the Detective needed a break, he was going to make sure she got one.

Back in the kitchen, Fred was watching as the large, orange water cooler filled with water. “The freezers are still cold,” Daphne observed.

“What?”

“The power’s been off a while, I thought they’d be warmer.”

“Too bad we don’t have time to eat all the ice cream,” Fred sighed.

Daphne bit her lower lip. She looked at the cooler filling in the sink. “We have a little time.” She smiled and opened one of the freezers. “Who the hell ate all the Spumoni?”

“Cooler full?” Lucifer asked from the doorway.

Fred turned off the water. “Yep.”

Lucifer made for the sink and went to lift the cooler out. “Oh, that’s heavy. You want some help?” Fred offered, but Lucifer had already hefted it up and out. “Nope, you’ve got it.”

“You two look over there while I make this water ‘holy,’” Lucifer directed. He looked down at the water. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, whatever this was. “Something, something, something, else,” he mumbled as he attempted to cross himself. Lucifer spit in the water and shook the container slightly. He figured that was good enough. “All right, this water has been holyfied,” he announced.

“Are you a priest?” Daphne asked.

“I did get ordained online once for a lark,” the Devil divulged. “Also, I’m somewhat divine. Now, let’s fill those guns.”

“He says weird things,” Daphne whispered to Fred.

“Compared to everything else going on around here, he’s normal,” Fred surmised. He dipped one of the water guns into the cooler and proceeded to fill it.

When the three of them returned to the hallway, water guns fully loaded, things had changed. Some of the doors were half open. “Why are the doors open?” Fred wanted to know.

“They just opened,” Sarah informed.

“Did the salt not work?” Fred looked to Lucifer.

“Or the ghost child could be stuck in the hall and searching for a way out,” the Devil theorized.

“What if she just walked between the walls into the next room?” Daphne brought up and they both looked at her. “What? It could happen. Ghosts do that.”

“Daphne’s right. We don’t know the extent of the ghost child’s powers.” Lucifer pumped up his gun, getting it primed and ready. Just then, all the doors closed. A second later, a door at the end of the hall slowly creaked back open.

“We have to check the rooms, force her out into the hall. Guns up and ready,” Lucifer advised.

Other doors began to open and close, and the three of them watched intently. “Is she trying to tell us something?” Daphne whispered.

“Maybe it’s a pattern, or a code? If that door is A, then that one’s B and C and . . .”

Lucifer cut Fred off. “We don’t have time to be code breakers. Now is the time for action. Next door that opens, we’re going in and squirting everything. And I know how that sounds, but I mean it in the serious, ghost eradication sense, not the puerile sense.”

“Affirmative.” Fred pumped his gun up, too, and Daphne followed suit. 

“We all stay together,” Lucifer enforced, and the counselors nodded. They all waited, barely daring to breath, just watching. Then another door opened, and they were off. 

And so it went for the next several minutes, they’d burst into a room, backs against one another as they sprayed the darkness down. Then they were back in the hall just in time for another door to open. Lucifer didn’t know if they were winning or losing, but everything was happening too quickly for him to really analyze. At one point, near the end of the hall, they entered a room together, but the Devil somehow came out alone. It made no sense. He looked up to see Fred and Daphne coming out of two, other rooms.

“How did we . . .?” Fred was confused.

“Weren’t we. . .?” Daphne was also confused.

Fred looked back at the room he’d just stumbled out of. “I thought that only happened in cartoons.”

Before Lucifer could respond, all the doors closed. This plan didn’t seem to be working and Lucifer felt like he was being laughed at, being mocked. “We need another plan,” the Devil decided.

“Plan B?” Fred asked.

Lucifer considered it for a brief moment. He was over playing these games, but that didn’t mean they should offer up one of the Scouts as a sacrifice, not yet anyhow. “Let’s make Plan B, Plan C. I have another idea.”

Chloe was back home sitting in her kitchen. The morning sun was filtering in around her curtains. Trixie would be up any minute. This was nice. Chloe took a breath. She was mostly at peace, but there was this nagging in the back of her head, like she was forgetting something, something important. Chloe looked down at her floor. There was a little water near her table. Maybe that’s what she was forgetting? Chloe picked up a towel from the counter and bent to clean up the spill. There was a weird noise. It sounded like a deep rumble under her house, like a train jumping the tracks, and then there was this rushing noise. Before she could reach the spill, water came pouring in from all around her.

The water swiftly filled the floor. It was soon up to her waist, and Chloe was trying to break the kitchen windows, but the glass held fast. The water kept rising, and Chloe found herself struggling to tread water as her head crept ever closer to the ceiling above her. She was going to drown. As she looked above her, Chloe found that the ceiling was gone. Instead, she was staring up through a long, dark hole. The walls around her were made of rock now and covered in moss. That didn’t change the reality of the water. It was still rising. And even though the ceiling was gone, the hole above her was far away, and she was starting to sink. Even in this new venue, she was still going to drown.

Chloe woke with a jerk. Her heart hammered as her brain tried to remember where she was. Then she felt Trixie in her arms and the present came back to her. Chloe gently removed herself from her daughter and the bed and crept out of the room. What time was it? How long had she been asleep? More importantly, how could she have let herself fall asleep? She knew better than to do that on an assignment.

The Detective checked her phone as she stepped out into the hall. 5:15 am?! The sun would be up soon. 

As she got her bearings, Chloe noticed that Sarah was asleep in the chairs in the circle of salt. The rest of the group was seated outside the circle, tying things on a large net. As she got closer, Chloe could see that they were tying fence posts, homemade crosses, and silverware to the net. Also, the scent of garlic was heavy in the air.

“What are you doing?” Chloe asked.

Lucifer smiled. “Ah, Detective, you’re awake.”

“Why didn’t you wake me earlier?”

“You clearly needed your rest,” Lucifer argued.

Chloe decided to let the matter drop. It had happened. She’d fallen asleep. There were more immediate concerns at hand. “Why does it smell like garlic?”

“We poured a whole container of garlic powder on the net,” Fred explained.

“Yes, we’re making a ghost child trap. We have fence posts for stakes, silverware for silver, some homemade crosses, garlic powder, and holy water for good measure, to cover all the bases,” Lucifer expounded. He felt around his pockets.

“What are you looking for?” Daphne asked.

“My lost shaker of salt.” Lucifer spotted it on the floor. “Ah, there it is.” He picked it up and put it back in his pocket. “One can never be too careful.”

Chloe wasn’t sure where to begin. “How’d you get holy water?”

“I made it,” the Devil imparted.

“How?” Chloe pressed, her eyes narrowing.

“I spit in it,” he whispered conspiratorily.

“Oh, Lucifer.” She was sorry she’d asked. “Has anyone checked on the people in the office?”

“I checked on them thirty minutes ago, they’re fine,” Daphne replied.

“How are you all going to hang this thing?” Chloe wondered aloud.

Lucifer looked at Fred and the counselor smiled. “Ever played the game Mousetrap?”

About twenty minutes later, Fred and Lucifer were hanging the net from the ceiling. Its tie line was connected to a series of booby traps designed to get the ghost into the exact spot to have the net fall on her. As they worked to secure the final piece, the pictures at the end of the hall shifted on the wall all at once and some of them clattered to the floor. Daphne screamed, in spite of herself, and Sarah jerked awake.

“Oh, the pictures fell,” the head counselor mumbled before turning over and going back to sleep.

“I’ve got it.” Chloe walked over and picked up one of the pictures. This frame was made of a different material from the pictures still hanging at the other end of the hall. The pictures Lucifer had knocked down earlier with his racket were in glass and wood. These images were in plexiglass, almost like they were designed to take a hit. Chloe felt around the wall, but all she found was a regular nail. 

The Detective carried the plexi frame with her back down the hall. She stopped before the other pictures, the ones behind actual glass. The face of one of the campers in the photo caught her attention. It was the way the camper rested her head on the tree branch she had her arms wrapped around. Chloe had seen that face before. She carefully shone her light over to where Sarah was sleeping, and sure enough, her face looked a lot like that of this camper. Sarah had said she was in some of these photos, that she’d spent most of her teenage years in the trees that surrounded the camp. The camper Chloe was focused on was reclining in the tree at the old campground, right beside the old bunkhouse, right outside the window that led to the room where Catherine used to sleep.

“Don’t mean to bother you all, but I really need to use the bathroom,” Krenshaw spoke from the office doorway.

Chloe walked over to him. She handed him the plexiglass picture. “This fell off the wall.”

“That happens around here.”

“Strange this picture is in plexi while the others are in glass,” Chloe remarked.

“Miss Catherine has her favorites,” Krenshaw explained. “We plan to change them all over eventually. And I really need to use the bathroom.”

“You know where it is,” Chloe observed.

“Not to be crude, but you don’t want me in the public bathroom right now. I have my own private one in my room.”

Fred looked up from his work. “Oh, yeah, you really want him to go to his own bathroom, Detective, trust me.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Fine, go, but you’ve got five minutes.”

“That’s now how it works,” he hollered as he hurried off down the hall. “But I’ll try.”

“Watch where you step! Don’t mess up my salt!” Lucifer called after him.

Chloe peeked into the office. Brad and Wilkes were still snoring away. At least someone was getting good and rested. “The trap is set!” Fred announced and stepped away from the rope holding the net. They all moved back to the end of the hall. 

Chloe looked up at the awkward thing hanging from the ceiling. “Great. Now how does it work?” 

“The motion of the rigged doors activates the squirt guns across the way which will drive Catherine out into the hall. We’ve cut the rest of her path off with salt, so she’ll have to come this way, and we’ve placed a stockpile of things under the net that she’d like. A hairbrush, some make up, a dress from the costume box, and a book. When we see the stuff move, we drop the net.” Fred was beyond pleased with himself. "I'm totally going to be an engineer someday," he told Daphne.

“And the net should hold her long enough for us to exorcise her,” Lucifer added. 

“You feel good about this plan?” Chloe eyed her partner.

“Yes. Fred was the mastermind, but I think it’s come together quite well.”

It was ludicrous. Chloe knew it was ludicrous, but at this point the sun would be shining soon, and she was counting on the new day to bring some clarity. Right now, it was that dark moment, the one just before dawn, and anything was still on the table. Why not let them take a shot with this ridiculous net?

“What do we do now?” Daphne asked.

“We wait,” Fred replied.

The silence stretched out between them, and that never set well with the Devil. “Detective, I’d like to apologize for my behavior earlier,” Lucifer whispered in Chloe’s ear. “I know I haven’t been much help on this case, but I hope this makes up for it.”

“Lucifer, you have nothing to apologize for.” She took a breath. “In fact, I need to apologize to you.”

“Whatever for?”

“I drugged you,” Chloe confessed. “When you were really freaking out, I wanted you to calm down, so I get some weed from Angelique and put it in your pizza. I didn’t mean to give you so much, but I dropped it in the sauce. I’m sorry.”

“Detective, normally I’d be thrilled by the prospects of you drugging me for your own devices, but I – I think I’m upset. Why am I upset?” Lucifer was perplexed.

“Because I drugged you? Because I lied to you?” Chloe could think of a number of valid reasons.

“No, it’s just, I’ve been trying really hard to be good, to be responsible. I haven’t touched my flask once this trip, and Angelique offered me wine and I turned her down. And then you. . .”

Chloe reached up and touched his face. “I know, and I am so sorry.”

Lucifer gave her a small smile. “I was being a real git, wasn’t I?”

“You were scared.”

“Yes, well I’m not anymore.” Lucifer looked back down the hall. “Come on, Catherine. Show yourself.”

“Are you sure this plan will work?” Daphne asked and Fred gave her an incredulous look.

“Hey, guys, I can see again!” Wilkes trumpeted as he stepped out of the office. He must have just woken up. His feet tripped over the pile of stuff in the hall and he fell backwards, pulling on the rope to the net and bringing it down on himself.

On second thought, a net with multiple sharp things tied to it was a terrible idea. “Wilkes, are you okay?” Chloe hurried to his side.

“Is there garlic on this?! It’s in my eyes! My eyes burn!” Wilkes cried out. “Why do you hate my eyes?!”

“Get him out of this!” Chloe instructed Fred and the others. She heard a door open behind them and looked up. Velma was shuffling out of the bunkroom. Chloe left them to free Wilkes and walked over to Velma.

“What’s going on out here?” the girl asked.

Chloe knelt down in front of her. “Just a little confusion, but everything’s all right. What do you need?”

“I need to go to the bathroom.”

“I’ll take you.” Chloe took her hand and led the way. She made sure Velma was safely inside the bathroom before turning her attention back to the mess in the hall. “Wilkes, are you okay?”

The officer blinked several times. “Yeah, I think I’m okay. I can still see, so that’s a win.”

“I thought for sure that would work,” Fred bemoaned.

The floor around them began to fill with fog, which was new, and at this point new was not at all appreciated. Wilkes hopped up. “What’s going on?”

“Guys . . .” Daphne stumbled back as she tried to keep her feet out of the creeping fog, but that was impossible.

“Come out and face us, Catherine!” Lucifer demanded. “You’re not scared, are you?!”

“It’s never a good idea to taunt the ghost,” Fred warned him.

There was a sudden rush of fog. It filled the floor and filtered up, and they all started to cough. It was disorienting. When Lucifer looked back up, he saw Catherine. She was there, at the end of the hall, but she looked weird and disjointed in the fog. She seemed bigger, too, somehow. That made no sense. It also made no sense that his fear came crashing back down on him in a tidal wave. A part of him wanted to run, to flee. Catherine started to move towards them, slowly and methodically, and he wanted to bolt all the more. But he couldn’t leave them. No, he needed to end this now.

Lucifer reached down and snatched one of the fence posts from the discarded net. He made a beeline for Catherine, stake raised and ready. 

Michael observed the hall as he peeked out from behind the library’s door. Everyone was scared. It was great, and he didn’t even have to do anything, just be. Okay, he had to send a little energy Lucifer’s way, but not that much. His brother succumbed to his fears rather easily. Maybe Michael should tamp it down just a bit, though, because now his brother had a sharp object in his hand and was heading straight for the so-called ghost. Only it wasn’t a ghost. Michael knew that full well. The angel part of his brain argued that he should stop his brother before he stabbed the human, but he squashed that thought. If Lucifer killed the human, maybe Dad would see fit to send him back to Hell for good? After all, that’s where his brother really belonged.

The fog rolling in so quickly had reminded the Detective of the water in her terrible dream, and she froze for a moment. But then she remembered Velma, Velma who was still in the bathroom. Chloe came back to the present and the ghost or whatever it was that was moving towards them now stood between her and the bathroom door. “Velma!” Chloe shouted and then she noticed that Lucifer had something in his hand, and he was going straight for the ghost. “Lucifer, stop!”

A groggy Velma exited the bathroom. She stumbled over something, maybe her own feet, and her glasses fell off. Instinctively, she dropped to the ground and began to fumble around for them. She found them, but they’d fallen on some sort of fabric, and when she picked up her glasses, she also picked up the fabric. Velma gave a tug, trying to free her glasses.

Lucifer was almost on Catherine. He raised his stake and was about to bring it down when Catherine made a noise, like a choking noise, and fell back. She hit the ground hard, much harder than a ghost should. 

At that moment, the power came back on and they all blinked in the bright lights. Velma managed to put her glasses back on. “Jenkies,” she expressed at the scene before her.

“Velma, come here,” Chloe instructed. The girl hopped up and ran to the Detective.

Lucifer faltered. This wasn’t a ghost before him. This was a full-sized person draped in white. Wilkes sprang into action. He ran over and made sure the “ghost” stayed on the floor. “All right, let’s see who’s behind this mask.” He pulled the fabric away and Fred and Daphne gasped.

“Old man Krenshaw!” the counselors spoke in unison.

Wilkes smiled. “And he would have gotten away with it, too, if it weren’t for you meddling kids.”

“And Devil,” Lucifer added.


	14. All Your Sins Laid Bare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Sorry for the little hiatus. We had a lot of work projects for Halloween and then it was time for the election. Anyhow, I'm back now.

In all her years working for the LAPD, Chloe Decker had never had a case quite like this. But here she was, standing in Brad’s office, staring down the camp director and the groundskeeper. They’d handcuffed them together with the one set they had and then tied their chairs together back to back with rope from Lucifer’s deconstructed ghost net. It was probably overkill, but Chloe didn’t care. It was kind of satisfying to see them tied up like that. As soon as Wilkes had unmasked Krenshaw, he’d sung like a canary, blaming the whole thing on Brad. Since they’d tied them together, however, the groundskeeper had fallen silent.

“Okay, who’d like to start?” Chloe asked.

Brad took a breath. “Is the rope really necessary?”

“Yes,” Chloe, Lucifer, and Wilkes replied.

“Detective,” Brad tried again, “we’re not guilty of anything. This was all part of our regular programming.”

“What about impeding a murder investigation?” Chloe pointed out.

“What happened to Amber was tragic, yes, but we had nothing to do with that. We don’t have anything set up at the old campsite. Tear the place apart, for God’s sake, you won’t find anything. I think Jeremy killed her, or she tripped and fell,” Brad rambled.

“Kind of hard to believe a guy who’s been lying to us since we met,” the Detective remarked.

“It’s not a lie. It’s a show, a game,” Brad protested. “Entertainment.”

“A game?!” Lucifer roared. He was still covered in mud. He hadn’t had a proper drink in hours, and he was livid. “You call this a game?!” He gestured to his ruined attire. “I’ll show you what a game is.” He took a step forward, and Chloe cut him off. She quickly grabbed his arm and spun him around, so he was facing the back wall, only looking at her. As Chloe suspected, his eyes were bright red.

“Calm down,” Chloe mouthed to him.

“Just a little torture,” Lucifer pleaded.

“No,” Chloe enforced. She looked over the Devil’s shoulder to Brad and Krenshaw. “You all have showers here, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” Brad replied.

“Why don’t you go take a shower?” Chloe encouraged her partner. “You’ll feel a lot better after that.”

“Are you coming with me?” he asked.

“No.”

“Fine,” Lucifer huffed. He blinked and his eyes returned to brown. He looked over at the two, captive men. “I’ll see you chaps later, and I’ve been taking notes, all weekend, so we’re going to have lots of fun someday in the future.” Lucifer gave a menacing smile and walked out.

“What does that mean?” Brad asked, concern in his voice.

“Your partner’s weird,” Wilkes told Chloe.

“Why did you feel the need to lie to us?” Chloe ignored Wilkes and turned her attention to their suspects.

“It’s not lying,” Brad repeated.

“It’s lying!” Krenshaw spoke over him. “My name is Hugh Miles. It’s not even Krenshaw, and I’m 52, not 72. This is all makeup. And I’ve listened to this bastard for twenty years, and I missed my mother’s funeral because of you and this damn charade!” Krenshaw had cracked.

“You could’ve left at any time!” Brad fired back. “You were drinking yourself to death wearing that Pluto costume. You begged me to take you with me when I left Disney!”

“This is worse!” Krenshaw, or Hugh retorted. “I told you not to run your program with the cops here!”

“You’re the one who doubled down and pulled out the old tricks! No one has or ever will believe you’re the ghost of a ten-year-old girl!”

“Hey!” Chloe shut them up. “So, you two have been running this game for twenty years?”

Brad turned his desperate expression to her. “You ever been handed a failing camp and tasked with turning it around?! We managed to keep our heads above water for years, but it’s getting harder and harder to get kids to come. All they want are their phones and computers and gaming systems. We’re the last ones left. All the other camps are gone, bought up and turned into shopping malls and high rises. We had to find a niche, okay, a gimmick.”

“Wonder what the Amis family will think of your gimmick,” the Detective posited.

Brad scoffed. “They don’t care, as long as we’re making money. They barely support the camp anymore.”

Chloe was about to ask another question when the office phone rang. She nodded to Wilkes and he answered. “It’s for you, Decker. It’s Lopez.” He held the phone out to her, and she took it, never taking her eyes off Brad and Krenshaw.

“This is Decker.”

“Chloe, oh my gosh, you’re alive, I’m stoked.”

“Yep, alive and well, with suspects apprehended. Do you have an update on when we can get out of here?”

“Yeah, the road should be cleared in a couple of hours. It finally stopped raining, so that’s helpful.”

A few more hours, Chloe supposed she could live with that. “Thanks, Ella. Anything else?”

“Uh, yeah, a few things. I tried to tell you last night, but things were cray cray on your end. I looked at the camp’s finances and the Amis family barely supports the camp anymore, even though their name is all over everything. Like, it’s the thing they fund the least. The Devrey family actually gives them the most money, pretty sure they funded the restoration work.”

“The Devrey family?” Chloe remembered the plaque in the dining room and the name from the book. “Rebecca,” she whispered.

“I’m sure there’s a Rebecca in their family somewhere,” Ella continued on. “Here’s thing two, the video we confiscated from the night Amber was killed, it’s been tampered with. But it’s done really well, so I had to look to find it. It’s on a loop, so whoever snuck out to the old campsite with them, they worked hard to cover it up. Also, they got skills.”

“Anything else?”

“Oh, yeah, the guys from the ranger station want to check in with an update, but they say radio is the best way. Is your site radio out?”

Chloe looked at the smashed-up radio. “It had an accident.”

“If one of you can get to the patrol car, I can patch them through.”

“Okay, we’ll do that. Thanks, Ella.”

“I can’t wait to hear about this when you get back,” Ella gushed. “I wanna know about all the ghosts.”

“No ghosts here, Ella, only haunted people.” Chloe hung up the phone and turned her attention to Wilkes. “Do you think you can get the patrol car over here now that it’s stopped raining?”

“I can try,” Wilkes replied. “Are you okay here with them?” He gestured to their suspects.

“Yeah. They’re not going anywhere.” Wilkes nodded and left. Chloe folded her arms and took a step closer to the apprehended men. “How do you do it, your little game?”

Brad hung his head a moment before answering. “At first, we did it with ropes and levers, fog machines, and sheets. You’ll find the controls for the doors under my desk. Now we have a computer program that runs it all, haunted house package, best one on the market.” Brad nodded his head to the computer. Chloe moved the mouse around and the screen lit up. “It’s under the spreadsheet icon.” Chloe clicked on the icon and the program booted up. It showed her everything, all the rooms and their associated traps and tricks. There were a lot in the library, just as she had suspected.

She looked back at Brad and Krenshaw. “Did the Amis family pay for this, or the Devrey family?”

Brad was silent and Krenshaw nudged him. “Just tell her, there’s no point in holding onto it for any longer. It’s done, Brad.”

“The Devrey family,” the camp director responded with reluctance. “They funded the renovation, but I had complete oversight for the project.”

“Why? It’s not their camp.”

“Might as well be,” Krenshaw commented. “Their guilt money has kept us afloat.”

“Guilt money?” Chloe pressed.

Brad took another breath. “I promised Priscilla I’d keep this story safe. She wouldn’t even release it to the guy who wrote the book, but she entrusted it to us.”

“What story?”

“Click on my video files, then click on Rebecca Devrey,” Brad instructed. He sounded like a man who was committing a terrible sin. Somehow this was the worst thing he’d done.

Chloe did as instructed. A fuzzy video loaded. It had been filmed a while ago. The date stamp in the corner read 2000. An impeccably dressed older woman was sitting in front of the camera. “Okay, grandma, it’s recording,” a voice spoke from off the screen.

The older woman took a steadying breath and began to speak. “My name is Rebecca Devrey Winstead. I’m ninety years old now and there’s a story I need to share, a story I’ve never shared with anyone. The only other people who know this story are dead, but I wanted to record it so other people will know. So other people won’t repeat my mistake. I, uh, was a camper at Camp Wildebegone. The summer I was ten, there was a girl there named Catherine. She was the granddaughter of Mr. Amis, the man who started the camp. Before Catherine arrived, there was a rumor going round that she was stuck up, that she’d be able to get away with anything. The other girls and I, we decided we didn’t like her, but when she arrived, she wasn’t any of those things. She was quiet and shy, kept to herself.” Rebecca clasped her hands together, they were shaking slightly, and Chloe didn’t know if it was from nerves or some type of palsy.

“Catherine was different. In today’s society, people would be more understanding, have more patience, but we didn’t. She tried to be our friend, do these little acts for us, leave us messages. We called her odd, peculiar, and worse. She was always reading, always had a book. Treasure Island was her favorite. She wore that book out.” Rebecca’s voice caught in her throat.

“Are you okay, grandma? Do you need anything?” the offscreen voice asked.

Rebecca held up a hand. “No, Priscilla, I’m fine. I just need to get through this.” The woman paused to gather her thoughts. “It had been raining for days, and we were stuck inside. We hatched a plan, the other girls and me, to trick Catherine into thinking we wanted to be her friends. We planned to lure her into the caves when it stopped raining, promise to meet her, and not show. I, uh, knew she liked Treasure Island, so I wrote her this note.” Rebecca held up a piece of paper in a clear, plastic bag. Chloe recognized the paper from the note she’d found in the copy of Treasure Island from the library. “We’d uh, found this list Catherine had made of our names, so we knew she’d go into the caves if we promised to be there.” Rebecca held up another piece of paper in another bag. It was the same as the list Chloe had found in the wooden box. “I left my note, my cipher in her favorite book, knowing she’d find it. On the morning it stopped raining, I went to the old well and lowered a lamp and a note in a wooden box down into the well. I let the rope go so it couldn’t be pulled back up, and then I went back to the camp, and we waited. Catherine left for her expedition, and after some time, we went down to the well to check for her. We knew where the caves led. We’d spent lots of time down there. That’s when campers were still allowed to explore.”

Rebecca swallowed hard. “Catherine was in the well. She had the lantern on. She’d found the note we’d left her. I don’t remember exactly what we wrote, but it wasn’t nice. We taunted her and called down to her. She didn’t say anything, just looked up at us with these sad eyes. The girls started to leave, and she said ‘Rebecca, there’s water. I can’t go back.’ And, God help me, I laughed at her. I told her to swim, and then I walked away. We went back to the camp, and we played a game, like everything was normal. We didn’t know the water was rising in the caves, that Rebecca was good and trapped. And we didn’t tell anyone she was down there. She was down there for at least another hour as we played like we didn’t have a care in the world.”

“By the time the counselors figured it out, it was too late. They couldn’t reach her in time to save her, but they could have, if we’d said something, anything. I didn’t sleep that night, once I realized what we’d done. Some of the girls went home, their parents came to pick them up, but mine were overseas, so I had to stay. And the, the next day, I was watching as they pulled her body out of the caves. I will never forget, until the day I die, the sound her mother made. I’ll never forget the way she looked at us when she told us she knew what we’d done. And she didn’t, not completely, but she knew we hadn’t been nice to Catherine. But her mother was right. We’d killed her. Life went on for us after that, but a part of me stayed in the well with Catherine. In a way, both of our childhoods ended that day.”

Rebecca was silent for a moment. “I put my camp things away a for a long time, couldn’t bear to look at them. When I took them out again, I found these two pieces of paper stuffed in my knapsack. I don’t know why I didn’t through them out, but now I can’t bring myself to. I’ve dedicated what’s left of my life to helping Camp Wildbegone, to helping any program that will teach people to be better listeners, to be more compassionate. I leave this mission to you, Priscilla, my only grandchild, may my terrible sin save others so that no other child will have to suffer what Catherine Amis did.”

The video ended and the room was silent. Chloe hadn’t realized there was a tear in her eye until that moment and she quickly wiped it away. “You used the money for the haunted house act?” she asked at last.

“Yeah,” Brad replied, his voice small. “We were hoping it’d be like an escape game, bring the campers together as they tried to figure it out.” He was quiet for a moment. “Maybe we should have used it to foster better communication?”

“Yeah, Brad, you should have used it for that,” Chloe agreed.

“I told you the upgrades were stupid,” Krenshaw griped, pressing back against his cohort.

“We couldn’t keep doing your lame act, Hugh!” Brad countered. “Kids are harder to scare today.”

“Like you know anything!” Krenshaw rocked back harder. He succeeded in knocking their chairs over and they landed with a thud on their sides.

“It was never supposed to be about fear. That was Rebecca’s point,” Chloe countered. At that moment, Wilkes walked back in. He was a little out of breath.

“Well, it took some creative maneuvering, but the car’s out front,” he announced. “It’s still pretty wet out there.”

“Great. Do you mind watching them for a minute?”

Wilkes smiled. “Don’t mind if I do.”

As Chloe stepped out, Wilkes approached the overturned suspects. “You, uh, going to help us out or what?” Brad asked.

“Oh, I think you’re fine like that.” Wilkes knelt down. “So, how attached are you guys to your eyesight?”

“Detective,” a chipper voice spoke from behind as she stepped out into the hall. She turned to see Lucifer, his spirits much improved. He was showered and sporting a new, crisp suit. His shoes had been cleaned, but they were still the same pair he’d been wearing the whole time.

Lucifer followed her gaze and grimaced. “Apparently, I failed to pack another pair of shoes. I know, they’re horrid. Don’t look at them.”

“How many suits did you bring with you?”

“Five, but it paid off, didn’t it?” Lucifer straightened his pocket square. He seemed back to his old self.

Chloe rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t deny he looked good. She was about to respond, when Gloria stepped out of the dining room to get her attention. Since everyone had been up when the power had come back on, the counselors and parents had decided to go ahead and make breakfast. The Scouts had to eat.

Gloria gestured to Chloe. “Any news?” she asked.

Chloe really wanted to get out to the radio, but she needed to update the rest of the group first. “Uh, yeah. Let’s talk about that.” She accompanied Gloria into the dining room and Lucifer followed her.

“Hey, everyone, if I could have your attention, please,” Chloe started to speak.

“You have all been lied to,” Lucifer finished for her. The Detective gave him a shocked look, but he kept talking. “Seems Brad and Krenshaw were pulling all the strings, so to speak, and playing tricks on us. There never was a ghost child. It was all smoke and mirrors and terrible life choices. Carry on.”

“I knew it!” Trixie announced.

“Were they all in on it?!” Valerie turned a suspicious eye to the other counselors.

“I was just as scared as you!” Fred protested.

“We didn’t know anything,” Daphne enforced. Sarah didn’t say a word.

“Brad and Krenshaw were clearly the masterminds,” Chloe divulged. “And they have been detained.”

“What about us? When can we leave?” Theresa asked.

“The rescue workers say it could be another hour or so.” All the parents groaned.

“Does that mean we can still do our skit?” Trixie asked, her voice hopeful.

Chloe joined the other parents. “What do you think?”

“What else are we going to do?” Julia wondered.

“It would be nice for the girls to leave here on a high note,” Gloria pointed out.

“Sarah,” Chloe called the head counselor over. She slowly complied. “The wrist band program, is that still operational?”

“Yeah.” Sarah showed the Detective her tablet. “It rebooted.”

“Gloria, you’re in charge of this now.” Chloe took the tablet from Sarah, who didn’t protest, and handed it to the Troop leader. “Keep an eye on it, make sure you know where the girls are.”

“Of course.”

“How long will it take to get ready for the skit?” Chloe asked. She directed her question to Fred and Daphne.

“We can be cleaned up and ready in an hour,” Fred decided.

“Great. One hour, skit, and then we’re out of here,” Chloe instructed. The parents agreed.

“I am the ghost of Catherine Amis,” Trixie moaned from the kids’ table. She had draped napkins over her head. “Boo!” She lurched at Claire and the girl screamed. She ran over to her mom and grabbed her arm.

Angelique whined and pulled her arm away. “Honestly, you were on me all night. There’s no ghost, Claire. Take a breath and get control.”

Claire huffed, straightened her spine, and returned to the other girls. They were all giggling and joking with Trixie, except Velma, who had her nose buried in a new book.

The Detective felt good about this plan. Not great, but good. She left the dining room and Lucifer followed. She thought her partner was going to follow her out to the patrol car, but he pulled away and started to walk down the hall. “Where are you going?” she inquired.

“To find my flask. I’ve been responsible long enough,” he replied without looking back.

Chloe grumbled and went out to the car. There wasn’t much she could do about that right now. When she got to Wilkes’ car, she picked up the radio. The poor car was covered in mud. It had clearly skidded several times on the way over. “Lopez, this is Decker, over.”

“Chloe, I hear you loud and clear. I’ll patch the ranger station through, over.”

Chloe waited a few moments, listening to radio static. “This is Ranger Station 3, do you hear us? Over.”

“I can hear you. Over.”

“Did you all weather the night okay? Over.”

“We’re all still here. Over.”

“Good. Power has been restored to the area, but the caves are actively flooding. The water’s running downhill. It’s important you all don’t go down there. Over.”

“Don’t worry about that. We are staying put at the main campground until we can safely leave. Over.”

“Good to hear. Ranger Station 3, over and out.”

Chloe hung up the radio, realizing for the first time how tired she really was. Maybe she should make a pot of coffee or something? The Detective walked back into the main building. The Scouts were returning to their bunkroom to work on their skit. The counselors were cleaning up in the dining room, and the parents were returning to their bunk room. Gloria showed her the tablet, to assure Chloe she was on the job. In a weird way, everything seemed back to normal, except for the two men tied up in the office.

Chloe peeked into the office. Wilkes was sitting on the couch, casually flipping through a magazine. Brad and Krenshaw were still on their sides on the floor. “Wilkes, set them up right,” Chloe instructed.

“Fine,” the officer huffed.

“I’ll be in the library if you need me,” she told him.

Wilkes nodded as Chloe left. As soon as she was gone, he sat back down and Brad and Krenshaw remained on the floor.

“All right, let’s practice our skit!” Trixie told the group as they reentered the bunk room.

“I thought we were doing the fashion show?” Georgia pointed out.

“You all still want to do that?” Trixie was disappointed.

“Yeah. We voted on it,” Taylor reminded her.

“Trixie, I have the perfect outfit for you,” Claire spoke up. She moved to her suitcase and pulled out a beautiful dress. It really was stunning. “Would you like to wear this one?”

“You want me to wear that dress?” Trixie was bummed about not doing her skit, but she was also shocked that Claire would let her wear that dress.

“Yeah, I think you’ll look really pretty in it. I’ll even do your makeup,” Claire offered.

“Okay,” Trixie capitulated. She took the dress from Claire with eager hands.

“Is anyone else as tired as I am?” Julia asked in the second bunk room.

“I’m so tired my feet are numb,” Theresa observed. “Is that normal?”

“Nothing about this has been normal,” Valerie countered.

“I hope I stay awake through the skit.” Julia yawned.

“What we all need to do is relax,” Angelique spoke up. “I have something that can help.”

“Oh, Angelique, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Gloria pointed out.

“It’s not going to knock you out or anything,” the other mother assured. She opened the pill bottle she’d been searching for. “It’ll make you feel more at ease.” She quickly swallowed a pill. “Who else would like one?” All the moms, even Gloria, raised their hands.

“Can I see?” Trixie asked. She squirmed on the edge of the bed, trying to hold still as Claire finished her make up.

“Almost. I’m about done,” Claire assured. With one more flourish of the brush, she pulled back. “There. Take a look.” She handed Trixie a mirror.

Trixie held up the mirror and her heart sank. Her face was covered in garish makeup. She didn’t look pretty at all. She looked like a clown. “What? You don’t like it?” Claire asked. “But that’s what you are, right? A clown. Not even a pretty dress can hide that.”

Trixie didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what was worse, Claire’s stupid smirk or the fact that Taylor and Georgia were giggling. They were trying to hide it, but she could hear them. Tears prickled at the corners of her eyes and she jumped up, hurrying out of the room.

“Trixie!” Helena called after her, but she didn’t follow. Velma followed, though.

In the second bunk room, Gloria saw Trixie leave her room on the tablet. But then she saw Velma go with her. The two of them ended up in the bathroom. The Troop leader breathed a sigh of relief. She leaned back in her bed. Whatever Angelique had given them, it was really helping. She felt like she was resting on a cloud.

When Trixie got to the bathroom, she hid in the first stall, allowing herself to cry long and hard. She heard the door to the bathroom open, and her voice caught in her throat. “Trixie, it’s me,” Velma spoke.

“What do you want?”

“Are you okay?”

“What do you care?” Trixie drew her legs up to her chest and buried her head in arms.

She heard the sink turn on and off and a moment later, a hand offered a wet paper towel under the stall. Trixie slowly took it. She uncurled from the toilet and left the stall. She started to wipe at her face. “Thank you.”

“Claire’s a jerk,” Velma said after a moment.

Trixie gave a small laugh. “Yeah.” She looked at the other girl and felt guilty. “I haven’t been nice to you. I’m sorry.”

Velma shrugged. “You made me play a chair. This is worse.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“I know.”

Trixie finished wiping off her face and tossed the paper towel away. “I don’t want to go back there,” she confessed.

Velma took a breath. “Claire was really scared last night, like way more than the rest of us.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So, I know how to disarm these wrist bands, and I also know how you can sneak out to the caves,” Velma offered.

Trixie smiled. “What’s your plan?”

In the dining room, the counselors were transforming the space into a stage for the eventual skit. “I can’t believe it,” Daphne said for the umpteenth time. “I can’t believe they would lie to us like that. It feels gross.”

Fred held out his hand for another piece of tape. She handed him one and he affixed it to the backdrop they were hanging. “I believe it.”

“Do you think we still have jobs?” Daphne wondered.

“Pretty sure we’re unemployed after today.” Fred stepped back and checked out their work. He shrugged. “Ah, it’ll do.”

“Do you think they killed Amber?” Daphne asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe Jeremy killed her? Maybe she fell?” He picked up a package of streamers and opened them. “We may never know.”

Daphne wrapped her arms around her chest. “I wonder if there’s really a ghost here?” She looked around the room.

“No. Ghosts aren’t real,” Fred decided. “They’re just a manifestation of a person’s guilt.”

Sarah was across the room from them, halfheartedly constructing paper flowers. Her fingers were moving, completing the task, but her mind was somewhere else. She looked up to get another piece of tape, and there was Amber, staring back at her. Sarah gasped and stood up.

Fred looked over at her. “You okay, Sarah?”

The head counselor didn’t respond. When she looked back, Amber was gone.

“How’s the floor feel?” Wilkes asked as he flipped another page in his magazine.

“I’ve slept on worse,” Krenshaw commented.

Outside, there was the sound of a siren. “Is that my car?” Wilkes dropped his magazine and stood. It sounded like his car. “Shit!” He hurried out of the office.

In the library, Chloe had finally found most of the mechanisms to all of the traps. It was rather satisfying to put all the pieces together. When the siren sounded, she turned around. That was odd. The Detective stepped out into the hall at the same time Wilkes did. “Is that your car?”

“It has to be.” Wilkes ran for the front door.

“What’s that noise?” Daphne asked in the dining room.

“Sounds like a police siren,” Fred replied.

“Do you think the other cops are here? Is the road cleared?”

“I, uh, need more tape,” Sarah said robotically. She headed for the craft closet and opened the door. She instantly screamed. Hanging inside was the hazmat suit Chloe had found last night in the bunk house. What was it doing here? She’d hidden this, she knew she had. Sarah slammed the door shut and turned around and there was Amber again, staring at her. Sarah screamed and tore out of the room. She bumped into Chloe on her way out.

“Sarah, what’s wrong?” The Detective held onto her arm.

“I did it! I killed Amber!” Sarah confessed.

Chloe’s hold on the head counselor’s arm tightened. “Come with me.” She started to lead the other girl outside. She looked up to see Lucifer stepping out of their closet, obviously rattled. “Lucifer, keep an eye on Brad and Krenshaw,” she instructed.

“With pleasure,” Lucifer snarled. In his hand he held his busted flask. It had taken him a while to find it in the disaster zone that was the activity closet/their bedroom. Apparently, he’d torn his suitcase apart last night, and someone, he suspected Wilkes, had knocked the shelves over. Fortunately, his garment bag and his suits had escaped unscathed, but his flask was a different matter. When he’d found it, he found it crushed with a puncture wound. The booze was long gone, lost to the floor.

Lucifer practically kicked down the door to the office. He walked straight over to Brad and Wilkes and picked them up off the floor.

“Finally,” Brad commented, but then he realized their feet weren’t touching the ground. “Wait, this is worse.”

“Listen up, miscreants, I know you all have some liquor in this place somewhere!” Lucifer shouted at them. He gave them a shake and they both screamed.

“This is a camp for kids, we don’t have any liquor,” Brad protested.

“In my room, under the floorboards!” Krenshaw cried out.

“That’s more like it.” Lucifer set them down and pushed them back over for good measure. He left the room. In the hall, he passed Velma and Trixie on their way out of the bathroom. “Urchin, small human,” he remarked.

Back in the office, Krenshaw sighed. “Of course.” He tried to look at Brad over his shoulder. “You’re really not going to tell them about Sarah, that she was in on it?”

“If Sarah chooses to tell them, that’s fine, but I’m giving her a chance. She has her whole life ahead of her. We roped her into it, influenced an impressionable youth,” Brad reasoned.

“Sarah makes her own decisions, always has,” Krenshaw countered.

“Yeah, but this place has always been her home.”

They were silent for a moment. “Do you think Catherine is still around?” Krenshaw asked at last. “I’d see her sometimes, at the old site, she just watched me. Little girl in a white dress.”

“I think that makeup you’ve been wearing has soaked into your skin and gotten to your brain,” Brad retorted.

“Who wants to go on a little adventure?” Trixie asked as she returned to the bunk room. The other girls were all dressed up, ready for a fashion show.

“You washed your makeup off, Trixie. Didn’t you like it?” Claire gave another smirk.

“I decided it wasn’t the right look for me,” Trixie replied. “Who wants to go on an adventure?” she asked again.

“What kind of adventure?” Helena queried.

“To the caves, to find Catherine’s ghost.” It was Trixie’s turn to smirk.

“There’s no ghost,” Claire pointed out.

“Not here, but I bet she’s down in the caves,” Trixie explained. “Let’s go find out.”

“What about the fashion show?” Georgia looked at her dress.

“We’ll be back in time. We change really quick, go to the caves, and come back. But we have to go now. Come on,” Trixie goaded. “Didn’t we say we wanted to see Catherine’s ghost? This is our only chance, for our whole lives.”

“I want to go.” Helena stood up and started to change clothes.

“Me, too.” Taylor followed suit.

“You all are crazy,” Claire protested.

“What, are you scared, Claire? Are you chicken?” Trixie started to cluck in her direction.

“We can’t get out of here, stupid!” Claire shouted. “We have these bands on.”

“Well, Velma knows how to turn them off, and I know how to get to the caves.” Trixie folder her arms across her chest, daring the other girl to come up with another excuse. Helena, Taylor, and Georgia joined Trixie and Claire gave in.

“Fine. We’ll go to the stupid caves.”

Chloe had Sarah seated in the backseat of the police car. Wilkes had turned off the siren. They weren’t sure what had set it off, but she was glad the other officer was out here with her. The head counselor was crying so hard she was shaking. Chloe took both her hands in hers and held them tight. “Sarah, take a breath. Take another breath.”

Sarah struggled to do as instructed. “I killed Amber all on my own. Brad and Hugh, they didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“But you knew about the haunted house stuff? You were a part of it?”

Sarah nodded. She wiped at her nose and Chloe managed to find a tissue to offer her. “I didn’t mean to kill Amber. I was just going to scare them.”

“Why?” the Detective wanted to know.

Sarah took a shuttering breath. “Amber and I went to middle school together. She was popular. I never was, but I wanted to be. I hung around her, hoping she’d want to be my friend. When it was time for the winter ball, she invited me to come with her group and I thought, great, I did it, we’re friends now. I bought a dress and got my hair and makeup done. Amber and her group arrived in a limo, and I got in. She said we were making a stop before the dance. We stopped at a gas station to get snacks because she said the food at the dance was always bad. She got a large, red drink and some chili fries. As I was coming out of the bathroom, she ran into me, dumping them both on me, but it wasn’t an accident. She laughed about it, saying I couldn’t go with them now. I called my mom and hid out in the bathroom until she came and got me. Amber and her friends went on to the dance.” Sarah sobbed and wrapped her arms around her chest. “I tried to kill myself that night, cut my wrists. My mom pulled me out of public school after that, enrolled me in camp that summer.”

“Then Amber came to work here,” Chloe provided for her.

“This place saved my life. I wanted to tell Brad to fire her, but I couldn’t. We were both adults now, right? I told myself we’d work through it, be better for it. And the first day I saw her, she asked me if we knew each other and I said, yeah, we went to school together. She said, ‘oh right,’ and that was it. She didn’t remember the dance or the gas station, or what she did. That night meant nothing to her, and it had ruined me.” Sarah sobbed again.

Chloe gave her a moment. “So, you decided to scare her?”

Sarah shook her head yes. “I knew she was sneaking out with Jeremy, going to the old campsite. I put on the hazmat suit the workers had left behind. I climbed the tree and snuck in through the top window, and I was just going to scare them, I swear. But I heard them talking and all I could think about was the gas station and the night I cut my wrists, and then I don’t know, it’s like I wasn’t in control of my body anymore. I found the candlestick and knocked Jeremy out, and when she came up, I grabbed her throat. I couldn’t stop myself, but then I realized what I was doing, and I let go. I let go and she stumbled back and fell. And I, I didn’t get help, I just left. I tried to tell myself it was okay, that she wasn’t a good person. That she’d deserved it. But we were kids then and she, she didn’t deserve to die . . . I didn’t mean to kill her.” Sarah buried her face in the seat behind her and continued to cry.

“I know you didn’t.” Chloe put her arm on the girl’s shoulder and let her cry on. She had known for some time now that Sarah had been involved in Amber’s death. She had planned on taking the head counselor in with her as soon as they could safely leave. Chloe had also known that whatever reason Sarah had, she wasn’t dangerous, and Chloe had been right. The Detective hated this part of the job. More than one life had been ruined, and for no good reason.

Meanwhile, Lucifer celebrated his success. He popped the lid on the half-consumed bottle of Wild Irish Rose as he returned to the hall, leaving Krenshaw’s room behind. It was below bottom shelf, but the Devil didn’t care at this point. He resumed his post outside the office and was just about to take a drink. He looked out of the corner of his eye and what he saw stopped him. There was a girl standing at the end of the hall in a white dress, watching him.

“Oh no, nice try, but you don’t exist,” Lucifer told the apparition. “Shoo now.” He tried to wave it away, but she didn’t move. “Honestly, you’re just a parlor trick.” Lucifer picked up a discarded tennis ball and threw it at her. It hit the girl, bouncing off her arm and falling to the floor. The girl looked at it and then back at him. She held up her arm, crooking her finger, and signaling for Lucifer to follow her.

“But you, you don’t exist,” Lucifer protested.

The girl signaled again and started to walk out the back door. Lucifer set his bottle down and looked around, not sure of what to do. When he looked back down the hall, the girl was gone. That was a relief. But then the girl was back, half her body sticking through the back door as she signaled for a third time. Despite his better judgment, the Devil felt compelled to follow.

“You don’t exist,” he continued to point out as he followed the girl out onto the back lawn. She didn’t say anything, just walked on, leading him from the new camp site to the old one. Occasionally she’d disappear, only to reappear further ahead. She didn’t feel human and she didn’t feel celestial. She felt like something else, something Lucifer had never encountered before.

“What is the point of this?” Lucifer demanded to know as she led him to the old spring house that had burned down. The girl was standing in the middle of what had once been the building. She had stopped moving, and Lucifer saw this as his opportunity to strike. He ran up to her, reaching out, and at the very last second, she disappeared. “Where’d you go?! What are you playing at?!” He whirled around. The ground beneath his feet felt spongy, and not really like ground at all. Lucifer jumped on it once, and that was all it took. The moss-covered lid to the old well gave way and Lucifer fell straight down into it.


	15. “Go Camping, They Said. It Will Be Fun, They Said.”

The first part of Velma and Trixie’s plan was the easiest, record five minutes of discussion and noise on Taylor’s phone so that Velma could play it on loop while they were gone. That way, it would sound like they were all still in the room working on the skit. The second part was a little more difficult. “Each band has these two, little buttons. If you hit them both at the same time, it should start to blink. When it starts to blink, you have fifteen seconds to take it off,” Velma explained.

“Where’d you learn this?” Georgia asked.

“We dissected one of these bands at robotics camp.”

“You are such a nerd,” Claire commented.

“This is so cool,” Helena countered.

“My mom has the tablet. Won’t she see when we take them off?” Georgia was concerned.

“It may look weird on her screen for a second. If so, they’ll come and check right away. You all should hang out a minute before you go, just to be sure. I don’t think she’ll notice, though,” Velma assured. “Okay. Everyone ready? On the count of three, press the buttons.”

“They’re really small,” Taylor worried.

“One, two, three,” Velma counted down. All the girls pressed the buttons, the bands flashed, and they hurried to take them off. Fortunately, they all made it on the first try. They held the bands and waited, barely daring to breathe, but no one came to check on them.

“We did it,” Trixie pronounced.

“What now?” Helena wanted to know.

“I drew this map. It’s a straight shot to the caves.” Velma handed Trixie her homemade map. “I’ll stay here and make sure the decoy plan works.”

“You’re not coming with us?” Claire sounded a little more concerned than she wanted to.

“Tell Catherine hello for me.” Velma smiled at Trixie.

“Will do.” Trixie pocketed the map. “Come on, let’s go. We gotta be quick.” The other girls left their reactivated bands behind in the room and hurried to the door. Trixie stuck her head out. She didn’t see anyone. “Okay, cost is clear.”

“Good luck,” Velma whispered after them.

“Thanks, Velma,” Georgia replied.

“Yeah, thanks,” Taylor echoed.

And with that, the five girls were out the door and on their way down the hall. It was no trouble at all to slip out the back door and make a beeline for the caves.

Lucifer regained his senses pretty quickly. He hadn’t been knocked out completely, but it was still jarring to fall straight down a well. He’d landed on his feet but had sort of crumpled over with the force of his landing and slid down the opposite side in this awkward heap. He was extremely glad the Detective was nowhere near, otherwise that would have really hurt. There was a little bit of water around his shoes and everything was very damp. Lucifer righted himself and shook the mud off his hands. His suit was already ruined. “Someone is going to pay for this,” he mumbled.

The Devil looked around, but the ghost child, or apparition, or whatever she was, was nowhere to be seen. There wasn’t much to see at all, just slimy rocks. The well was a tight fit for him. He could maneuver around, but he certainly couldn’t stretch his arms out from side to side to their full length. “I’ve seen this movie. This isn’t good.”

Lucifer looked up at the opening far above him. “This isn’t good at all,” he surmised. The Devil weighed his options. Behind him, the well opened up at the very bottom. If Lucifer got on his knees, he could see a tunnel that led out into another area. These must be the fabled caves of Camp Wildebegone lore. Nope. He wasn’t crawling out that way.

As Lucifer turned back around, a glint of light on something metallic caught his eye. There was an old, busted lantern, or at least the frame of what had once been a lantern, buried in the mud. He pulled it up. “I don’t like this.” He looked at the walls around him. Were those fingernail marks on some of them? “Bloody hell. I need to get out of here.” He tossed the lantern aside and decided that he had no other choice, he was going to have to climb.

“How much further?” Claire whined as she pulled up the rear of the group.

“I didn’t tell you to wear those shoes,” Trixie remarked. She did her best to push a thicket of bushes aside without whacking the girl behind her. “The caves should be . . .” She came out on the other side of the thicket, and there they were. “Right here.”

The other girls joined her, and they shared a moment of awed silence. “Well, we’ve seen them,” Claire spoke at last.

“Oh no, we’re going in.” Trixie kept walking. Taylor squealed in excitement and followed after her. They all went, even Claire.

The entrance to the caves was large and open. “There’s water,” Helena commented as they stepped inside. It was a small, steady stream, like a little creek.

“We can cross on these rocks.” Trixie found a set of rocks and carefully walked across them, trying her best not to slip and tumble off.

“I’m not getting my shoes any wetter,” Claire imparted as she watched them cross.

“Come on, Claire,” Taylor goaded.

“Yeah, we all did it,” Georgia added as she successfully crossed and moved further into the cave.

“Is it your shoes, or is it because you’re scared?” Trixie asked. She started making clucking noises again.

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” Claire started to cross, but her shoes slipped, and she fell off the rock, her feet disappearing in the water below. “This is the worst day ever,” she whispered as she slogged through the water and joined the other girls.

Trixie turned on her flashlight and led them a little further into the heart of the large opening. Behind them, tunnels shot off in other directions. “What now?” Helena dared to ask.

Trixie shone her light around the space. “Catherine Amis, we call to you! Are you here with us?!” The silence answered her back. “Catherine, speak to us, we’re here to listen.”

“Come out to play, Catherine!” Taylor called.

Trixie liked the sound of that. “Come out to play, Catherine!” she echoed.

Then all the girls, save Claire, were shouting, “Come out to play! Come out to play!” Their voices reverberated through the caves, egging them on even more.

Lucifer’s grip slid on the mossy stone and he fell again, straight back to the bottom. This wasn’t the worst fall of his existence by far, but it was proving to be the most annoying. He couldn’t get a decent grip on anything down here. “Fine, we’ll do this another way,” he growled. He smashed his hand into the stone, breaking the rock and forcing his fingers into it. If there weren’t any natural handholds, he’d make his own. Lucifer had gotten his hands situated and was just about to create some slots for his feet when something hit the back of his neck. It felt like liquid. Great, was it raining again? Lucifer felt the back of his neck. It was sticky. Why was the rain sticky? He looked up and his eyes instantly flashed red.

Michael smiled down at him. He casually took a drink of his soda “My instincts told me you were at the bottom of a well and look where I found you.”

“You?!” Lucifer tried to unfurl his wings out of anger, but of course there was no space for them.

Michael laughed. “What’s that? You want me to tell Lassie where you are so she can alert the townspeople?”

“I’m coming up there, and I’m going to make your face even uglier,” Lucifer threatened. His Devil face flashed, and Michael pulled out his phone.

“Hey, how do you Tik Tok? I’ve got lots of footage from this weekend that I’d like to Tik Tok.” Michael took another drink of his soda, like he didn’t have a care in the world. He leaned against the well, his injured shoulder sticking up at an odd angle, but it was normal for him now.

Realization hit Lucifer like a semitruck. “You! You’re responsible for all this!”

“Well, I had a little help from the humans, but I played a pretty important part, if I do say so myself.” Michael took a little bow. “I even helped solve your murder for you. I’m better at your job than you are.”

“Murder?”

“The head counselor, Sasha, Sarah, or whatever, she killed that other counselor. It was so obvious. Her fear was rolling off her in waves. All I had to do was put a white suit in a closet and she freaked out, confessed to everything. Seriously, you stay at the bottom of the well, and I’ll be the LAPD’s new civilian consultant.” Michael finished his soda, crumpled the can, and tossed it down the well. Lucifer caught it and hurled it back at him. Michael ducked out of the way and the can stuck in the trunk of a nearby tree.

“You led me to this blasted well! Jokes on you, brother, because I’m busting out.” His wings tried to unfurl again on instinct, but of course they did him no good in this space. Right. That was embarrassing.

“Sadly, I can’t take credit for this one, as much as I’d like to.”

“You can stop with your insipid lies. You got into my head, made me see the ghost child. You brought me here in another one of your ill fated and pathetic attempts at revenge.”

Michael smirked. “Although I do enjoy the view, me looking down at you, I have no idea what you’re talking about. You may be the Devil, but we’re still twins, unfortunately, and our connection told me you were somewhere dark and dank. I’d hoped it was hell, but this is also enjoyable. Bully for me. That’s how you say it, right, in your stupid accent?”

Lucifer scoffed. “We have never shared a connection. That’s your worst lie to date.”

Michael looked away, something other than anger souring his expression. “No, of course not. More like an irritation, an aggravation.”

Lucifer had had enough of this. “I am beyond tired of your sniveling, meddling ways. Go home, Michael, and stop trying to be me. You always were pathetic, living in my shadow, even after I was cast out of the Silver City.”

“That was never the point!” Michael shouted. He glared daggers down at his brother. “You – you don’t know, do you?!”

“That you’re a miserable cretin, yes!” Lucifer spat back.

Michael’s expression went numb which threw his brother for a loop. “How can you still not know?” he whispered. His face slowly started to harden again and that was an emotion Lucifer recognized. “Of course, you don’t know. You’re the Devil. You only care about yourself.” His characteristic smirk was back. “Also, you’re terrified of ghosts, kid ghosts, to be specific.” Michael pulled out his phone and watched one of the videos he’d filmed with glee. “I’m so glad I got one of these contraptions. Thanks for buying it for me, by the way. Oh, this one’s my favorite video. G-g-g-ghost!” Michael guffawed and that did it, that was the straw that broke the Devil’s back.

Lucifer’s Devil face burned through. He didn’t care if he couldn’t unfurl his wings to their full potential, he was still going to use them to propel himself upwards. He didn’t care if he took the whole well down with him. He was getting out and he was going to kill his brother.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Michael spoke up. “You might case a cave in, hurt the Scouts.”

Those words worked their way through the roaring in Lucifer’s ears and he faltered, all his rage leaving his body in a rush and causing him to stagger backwards. “What?”

“The Scouts, the human children, I saw them go into the caves on my way to find you.”

Lucifer’s brain was still racing to catch up. “Was anyone else with them?”

“Nope, just the five of them, going about their merry way.” Michael tried out Lucifer’s accent. “Really, how do you talk like that?”

“Trixie,” Lucifer whispered, worry gripping the back of his throat. He looked up at his brother. “Michael, this is serious, you need to go and get help. You have to go and tell the Detective, tell Chloe.”

“Why? They’ll be fine. Dad will protect them or whatever.” Michael shrugged.

“You and I both know that’s not how it works,” Lucifer enforced.

“We also know Dad told us not to meddle in human affairs, so, I’m out of here. Peace, but not really.” And with that, Michael was gone.

“Michael! Damnit!” Lucifer hit the well and knocked a rock out. He instantly regretted it. He couldn’t climb up anymore, not if his actions might risk a cave in. Lucifer got to his knees and looked back through the tunnel. Even with celestial vision, it was dark. He sighed. He had no choice. Lucifer started to crawl forward, the water soaking through his suit. “Go camping, they said. It will be fun, they said,” he muttered as he crawled.

Back at the opening of the caves, Trixie shushed the other girls. “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Claire wanted to know.

“It sounds like a voice, like the voice of a little girl.” Trixie took another step forward, listening intently. Suddenly, her whole body shook. The others gasped. When she turned around, her eyes had rolled up in the back of her head. Trixie lurched forward; her arms outstretched. “I am Catherine Amis, and I demand revenge!” She grabbed ahold of Claire and staggered back with her.

Claire was screaming the entire time. She was still screaming when Trixie’s eyes returned to normal and she started to laugh. The other girls were laughing, too. Claire finally realized what had happened. She stopped screaming and shoved Trixie. “You’re a bitch!”

Trixie looked at her friends, not sure what she should do. She’d heard that word, from her mom and Maze, but she also knew she wasn’t supposed to say it. But the way Claire was looking at her, it made her blood boil. “You’re a bitch!” Trixie fired back with a shove of her own.

Before they could do anything else, there was a rumbling sound. “What’s that?” Georgia asked.

Rocks started to fall from above them and they all screamed. Georgia, Helena, and Taylor fell back. Trixie and Claire were further away from them, and they ducked as the rocks continued to fall. Suddenly, there was a crashing noise as part of the opening slid down, separating the groups from each other. “Are you all okay?!” Taylor cried out.

Trixie looked at herself and Claire. They were filthy, but they seemed to be okay. She coughed and swatted at the rock dust that was thick in the air. “Yeah, we’re all right. Are you guys okay?!”

“Yeah!” Helena replied.

Trixie couldn’t even see her friends on the other side. The fallen rocks had created a solid wall. It was suddenly so much darker where she was. “Can you get out?”

“Yes! We’re going to get help!” Georgia assured.

“We’ll be here,” Trixie affirmed, her voice sounding weaker than she wanted it to.

In another part of the caves, Lucifer felt the rumbling. A few rocks fell overhead, pelting the back of his neck and head. He grumbled and shook them off. Whatever that was, he knew it hadn’t been good. He had to find a way out, or the Scouts, or better yet a way out with the Scouts. Another rock struck him on the back, and he sighed. He cast his eyes as far up as they could go, which wasn’t far. “I know I’m your least favorite child, but could you cut me a little slack right now? I could use more New Testament you, less Old Testament you.”

Once the other girls had left, the silence was deafening for all of two seconds, then Claire lit into Trixie. “This is all your fault! And now we’re stuck!”

“They’ll get help. We’ll get out of here. My Mom and Lucifer won’t leave us.”

“What if we run out of air and die before they can find us?!” Claire gasped and held her breath.

Trixie rolled her eyes in the dark. “We’re not going to run out of air.”

Claire let out her breath. “What if we drown, like Catherine?”

Trixie felt the water at her feet. “We’re not going to drown.” No sooner had she spoken, then they heard a small rushing noise. Trixie shone her light down and the water level around them was slowly but steadily starting to rise.

“You make everything worse!” Claire exclaimed.

“Come on, we’ve got to find another way out.” Trixie turned and started to walk for one of the tunnels.

“Where are you going?!” Claire demanded to know.

Rule one of rescue was stay and wait, Trixie knew that, but they couldn’t stay here, not if the water was rising. Rule two was move on if you had to. “We’ve got to find another way out,” she repeated. “Or higher ground.”

“What if there’s not another way out? Catherine didn’t find one.”

Trixie had had that thought, but she couldn’t give in to panic. “You want to stay here?”

“No!” Claire sloshed after her.

“Come on, then.” Trixie quickly picked a tunnel and they started to make their way further into the caves.


	16. Calling on Angels

“What was that?” Chloe asked. She stepped out of the patrol car where she was working on her case notes and looked around. Wilkes gave her a curious look. “Did you hear that?”

“I heard something. Maybe they got the mudslide cleaned up?” The officer was hopeful.

Chloe shook her head. “No, it sounded like it came from the other direction.”

Sarah sat up in the backseat. She had been silent for a while. “Could be the caves. We get landslides down there sometimes. It’s another reason they’re off limits.”

Chloe reached back into the car and picked up the radio. She was just about to speak into it when someone called through for her. “This is Ranger Station 3 trying to reach Camp Wildbegone, over.”

“This is Camp Wildbegone. We heard a strange noise. Could be another landslide, over.”

“Affirmative. We think there’s been a landslide near the caves. Shouldn’t be a problem, but we advise again you stay away from that area, over.”

“What about the road? Is it clear yet? Over.” Chloe was beyond ready to get out of there.

“Just about. We estimate fifteen minutes, give or take. Hang in there. Ranger Station 3, over and out.”

Chloe hung up the radio and looked around. All in all, that had been good news, but something still didn’t set right with her. “Stay with her, Wilkes,” Chloe instructed. She left the car and returned to the main building.

In the dining room, Fred and Daphne had finished transforming the space into a makeshift theatre. “Did you hear that?” Daphne asked her fellow counselor. “Sounded like a rumbling noise.”

“It might have been my stomach.” Fred didn’t look up from his phone. They weren’t supposed to have their cellphones during work hours, but there didn’t seem to be much point to the rules now. Also, the Internet was working at the moment, which was a nice bonus. 

Daphne peered out the window at the patrol car. “They’ve been out there with Sarah for a long time. Do you think she did something?”

“Hey, Camp Crystal Waters is looking for counselors. It’s a bit of a drive, but it’s a nice area.” Fred looked up and gave Daphne a small smile. “Maybe we could go work there?”

“You’re serious? You wanna work at another camp?”

“Yeah, I figure if we can survive this place, we can survive anything,” Fred surmised.

Chloe opened the door to the room. She seemed apprehensive. “Have you all checked on the Scouts?”

“Yeah, I checked on them a few minutes ago, listened through the door. They were making all kinds of noise,” Daphne shared.

Chloe nodded. “Okay.” She left the room, but she still wasn’t satisfied. As she entered the hallway, she noticed Lucifer was not at his guard post outside the office. Maybe he was inside? The Detective opened the door, but her partner was nowhere to be seen. There was Brad and Krenshaw, still on the floor. She walked over to them and righted them. “Where’s Lucifer?”

“Thank God,” Brad voiced when they were finally vertical.

“Your partner? He came in, threatened us for booze, and then left,” Krenshaw divulged. “This is cruel and unusual punishment. I’ll be talking to your supervisor,” he groused.

“You do that.” Chloe tipped them so they were slightly off balance and then let go. They fell right back over. 

“Smooth,” Brad commented to his cohort. “Real smooth.”

The toes of Chloe’s boot kicked the glass, whiskey bottle on her way out, and she stooped to pick it up. Lucifer had been here. The lid was off, but there was still booze inside. That was odd, especially for Lucifer. Chloe set the bottle down and her eyes combed the hall. Something was wrong. She could feel it. 

“Gloria!” the Detective tried not to sound panicked as she entered the second bunk room. The site that greeted her did little to assuage her nerves. All the parents were asleep, passed out on their beds. Chloe couldn’t believe it. With a huff, she walked over to where the Troop leader was sleeping and pulled the tablet out of her limp arms. All of the Scouts seemed to be accounted for in the first bunk room. Why did she still feel like this, then?

Chloe took the tablet with her as she left the bunk room. She popped her head into the dining room once more. “One of you take a bull horn and use it in the second bunk room.”

“Why?” Daphne wanted to know.

“Just do it,” Chloe snapped. The counselors sprang into action. The Detective made a beeline for the first bunk room. She could hear the noise on the other side. The girls sounded hard at work. Chloe didn’t care what else they had to do; it was time to put this stupid skit on its feet. The parents would wake up and they’d watch, and then they’d all go home. 

Chloe pushed the door open. “We’re not ready yet!” Velma called as she heard the door. She ran forward, trying to block Chloe’s view, but it was too late.

The bullhorn sounded in the next room and the parents screamed. It was a lot of noise at once, and Chloe couldn’t breathe. She saw the discarded bands sitting on the bed. She realized the other voices she was hearing were coming from a cellphone. Chloe walked straight to the phone and turned it off. She rounded on Velma. “Where are the other girls?”

Velma vacillated for all of a second before answering in a small voice. “They’re at the caves.” It was like a sucker punch to Chloe’s gut, and Velma was concerned at her reaction. “But they’ll be back any minute. They were just going to the entrance.”

Chloe left the room on numb feet. Some of the other parents were stumbling out of the second bunk room. “What was that about?” Valerie asked.

“What time is it?” Angelique struggled to discern her surroundings.

Gloria spotted Chloe. “Oh, Chloe, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep. How are the . . .”

The Troop leader’s question caught in her throat. At that moment, Helena, Taylor, and Georgia came bursting through the back door. “Help! We need help!” Helena screamed.

“Where were you?!” Gloria demanded to know as her daughter flung herself into her arms.

“We went to the caves!” Georgia cried.

“Trixie and Claire are trapped!” Helena hurried to explain.

“A bunch of rocks fell, and they can’t get out,” Taylor added.

“Are they hurt?” Chloe needed to know.

“No, Trixie said they were okay, but they can’t get out,” Taylor replied.

“Claire, Claire’s stuck?” Angelique had finally caught up with the present. She gave Chloe a desperate look. “You have to get her out! You have to help my daughter!”

Chloe ignored her. She took Taylor gently by the arm. “Was there water, Taylor? Was there water in the caves?”

Taylor nodded. “A little.”

But Chloe knew a little would soon be a lot. The clock was ticking. She released Taylor and took a deep breath, the remnants of last night’s dream replaying in her head. No, she couldn’t think like that. Trixie wasn’t going to drown down there. She wouldn’t let it happen. Lucifer wouldn’t let it happen. Where was Lucifer?

“How did you all get out?” Theresa asked her daughter.

“Velma and Trixie had a plan,” Helena divulged.

Velma’s face had turned the color of ash. “I didn’t know this would happen.” She started to cry, and Gloria took the girl into her arms.

“Of course, you didn’t,” the Troop leader comforted her.

Angelique rounded on Chloe. “I swear, if your daughter gets mine killed.”

“Everyone shut up!” Chloe shouted and they all fell silent. “Taylor, when you left, where were Trixie and Claire?”

“Right inside. Trixie said they’d stay there.”

Chloe felt a flash of pride at that response. Trixie had made some terrible decisions today, but the kid knew what to do in a crisis. “Fred and Daphne, go to the caves now. Talk to the girls, tell them we’re coming. Do not touch anything. We don’t want another landslide.”

“We’re on it!” Fred grabbed Daphne’s hand and the two of them took off through the back door.

“Gloria, you stay here with the Scouts. No one leaves, do you understand me? No one!” The Troop leader nodded and held her daughter tight.

Chloe ran back outside to the patrol car. “Wilkes, get on the radio. We have an emergency! Trixie and Claire are trapped in the caves. We need help. I don’t care if they’re done cleaning up the road or not, we need help now!”

Wilkes fumbled with the radio, but Chloe heard him putting in the distress call as she ran for the old campsite. She stopped halfway in between the two camps. She still didn’t know where Lucifer was, but the Detective knew someone who could locate the wayward Devil. Chloe placed her hands together, closed her eyes, and hoped this would work.

As she opened her eyes, she heard the flutter of wings. Sure enough, Amenadiel was there. “Chloe, you called?” the angel was a little confused. He hadn’t expected to see her. “Is camping really so bad you had to call me?”

“Trixie and another girl are in danger, Amenadiel. They’re trapped below ground and the water’s rising, and I don’t know where Lucifer is,” Chloe’s words came out in a rush.

“Slow down, Chloe. Take a breath.” Amenadiel placed a steadying hand on her shoulder. “Trixie is in danger?”

“Yes. There are two girls in danger, and I can’t find Lucifer.” Chloe was trying not to cry. It wouldn’t help matters any.

“What do you need me to do?”

“Find Lucifer,” Chloe enforced. “I need him. Trixie needs him.”

“It’s done.” With another flutter of wings, Amenadiel was gone. 

Not soon after he'd taken to the sky, Amenadiel thought he'd spotted his brother. As he approached, though, he realized it was not Lucifer at all.

“What’s the point of this so called 5G if you can’t even get a signal?” Michael grumbled. He held his phone up a little higher to see if that would help. Maybe this contraption was more trouble than it was worth?

A second later, the phone was knocked out of his hand and Michael found himself being pushed roughly against the nearest tree. Strong hands turned him around and shoved him back, holding him there. “I thought I told you to go . . .” Amenadiel’s voice faltered for a second as he took in Michael’s scarred face for the first time. “. . .to go home.”

“Do you like it?” Michael turned his head slightly to the side so Amenadiel could get a better look at the angry gash.

“I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t know what, that our brother had found another way to maim me.” Michael did his best to shrug with the tree against his back. “Now you do. What brings you to the great outdoors, Amenadiel?”

“Where’s Lucifer? He’s missing.”

Michael scoffed. “Of course, you’re concerned for him. Your loyalties to the Devil are less than inspiring, rather damning, actually.”

Amenadiel pressed into Michael’s chest a little harder. “Where is he, Michael? I know you know. You always know.”

The other angel cast his eyes to the ground. “Have you tried looking low? Like underground, maybe?”

“Lucifer’s in the caves? Did you put him there?” Amenadiel’s tone was threatening and Michael held his hands up in feigned innocence.

“Our brother is perfectly capable of putting himself underground. We both know that.”

“What about the kids? Did you lead them into the caves?” Amenadiel’s voice was even more threatening.

“The human children put themselves in their predicament. I had nothing to do with it.”

Amenadiel held onto Michael for a moment more, staring into his eyes, before he released him. “Come on, I need your help.”

Michael laughed. “Uh, no you don’t. I didn’t do anything here, literally. So, I don’t have to do anything to fix it.”

“Michael, we’re angels,” Amenadiel protested.

“And we don’t interfere, unless specifically instructed by Dad,” Michael reminded him.

“Oh, so what are you doing down here, Dad’s bidding?”

“Just having a bit of fun, harmless stuff,” Michael defended.

“There are innocent lives at stake, Michael.” Amenadiel didn’t have time to go round and round on this, but he couldn’t believe his brother could be so callous. There was a time when Michael had worn his heart on his sleeve, but that time was long gone now.

“Dad always comes through with a last minute save. That’s how miracles work.”

Amenadiel’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve been on Earth long enough to know miracles are fleeting, Michael, and terrible things happen.”

Michael’s expression didn’t soften. “That’s the price you pay for original sin, and we all know whose fault that is.”

Amenadiel turned to leave. “I’m going to save the kids and our brother.”

Michael snorted. “Lucifer is immortal! What could he possibly need saving from?”

Amenadiel found Chloe outside the entrance to the caves. “Trixie!” she called again. Fred and Daphne had been trying to contact the girls for a bit, but they weren’t answering. There was waster running out from around the fallen rocks, and Chloe suspected the girls had moved on further into the caves. Trixie must have known they couldn’t stay there. She must have taken Claire in search of another exit. “Claire!” Chloe shouted, but she got no response.

“Chloe,” Amenadiel caught her attention from the wood line. The Detective hurried over to him. “I found Michael.”

Chloe’s stomach turned in anger. “Michael?!”

“He said Lucifer’s in the caves.”

That news made Chloe feel better, and she gave a small smile. “How did he get down there?”

“Michael said he put himself there, whatever that means. But if he’s down there, and he knows Trixie’s down there, he’ll look for her. He’ll find them, Chloe,” Amenadiel assured.

“He’ll get them out,” Chloe added. She felt a flash of hope, but it was quickly doused. Lucifer could be right under her, right where her feet were. “I can’t be down here. I’m too close. I make him vulnerable, and if he’s vulnerable he can get hurt or drown or . . .”

Amenadiel placed his hand on her shoulder again and squeezed tight. “Go. I’ll stay here. I’ll do what I can to help. I promise you, Chloe, I will do all within my power to help them.”

“Can you slow time down?”

Amenadiel looked sad. “I can’t do that. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Stay here. Help them. Please help them.” The Detective called out to Fred and Daphne. “Guys, this is Amenadiel. He’s a friend. He’s here to help. I have to go back to the main campsite, but he’s going to stay here with you.”

“I think they moved further into the caves,” Fred reasoned. His voice was hoarse from shouting.

“I think so, too. Do you all know anything about the caves, where they lead?”

“No. We weren’t allowed down here, but Brad and Krenshaw know,” Daphne imparted.

“Thanks, Daphne. I’ll send more help as it comes!” Chloe turned and took off at a dead run back to the camp.

The Detective ignored the multitude of questions that greeted her as she walked into the main building. She went straight to the office and righted Brad and Krenshaw. 

“What’s going on out there? Was there another landslide?” Brad asked. He could tell something was wrong just from the snippet of conversations he’d heard.

“You are going to listen to what I say and not make any comments,” she told them, her voice firm and threatening. “Trixie and Claire are trapped in the caves. Fred and Daphne are down there now. Wilkes has called for backup. You two know those caves, so you’re going to go down there and help them.” Chloe worked to untie them as she laid down the rules. “This in no way changes anything you two have done. When this crisis is over, you will still come to the station. If you run, you will only make it worse for yourselves. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Brad replied.

“Loud and clear,” Krenshaw remarked.

Chloe hesitated for all of a second before uncuffing them. “Go. Go, now!” Brad and Krenshaw leapt to their feet and ran out with an impressive amount of speed.

“You better save my daughter!” Angelique screamed at Chloe’s retreating figure as the Detective left the office. She kept walking until she was outside. Chloe didn’t dare go any further than the front entryway, though. She heard the sound of sirens in the distance, coming down the road. 

Chloe took a shuttering breath and let out one sob. She closed her eyes and hoped Lucifer could feel her, that he’d know she was there with him, even if she couldn’t be close. She hoped Trixie knew the same thing, and she hoped more than anything that the two of them would find each other and they’d all get to go home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to leave you here. I'll have another chapter tomorrow.


	17. Hell, and High Water

“We’ve been this way already,” Claire whined. She was tired and wet, and it wasn’t exactly warm down in the caves. To make matters worse, Trixie kept leading them in circles.

Trixie stopped and looked back at the other girl. She fought the urge to shine her light right in Claire’s eyes. She’d already done that several times. She should probably not do that anymore. “How do you know?”

“Because we’re not getting anywhere.”

Trixie shared that same concern, but no way she was going to let Claire know. “We’re not going in circles,” was her best response.

“And the water’s getting higher,” Claire pointed out. That was true, too. Before it had only been their feet that were covered, but now the water was halfway up Trixie’s calves. Claire was taller.

“Come on, we have to keep looking.” Trixie pressed forward.

Claire huffed but continued to follow. “If I drown down here, my mom is going to kill your mom.”

Trixie laughed out loud, her voice echoing off the rock walls. “My mom would wipe the floor with your mom.”

“Oh, yeah?” Claire pushed Trixie from behind, causing her to stumble a little.

Trixie rounded on her. They were both livid. “Yeah, because my mom has a Maze!”

“What’s a Maze?!” Claire shouted.

Then they heard it, a noise. Something was heading straight for them. “What is that? Is it a bear?” Claire wrapped her arms around her chest and backed up.

“It’s not a bear,” Trixie replied. It couldn’t be a bear, right? It was definitely something, though, and it was large. “Let’s go, back the other way.” Trixie pushed Claire the way they had come.

“Stop pushing me!”

Trixie tried to hurry the other girl along. She took a peek over her shoulder. The beam of her flashlight caught something big and dark. Oh my gosh, it was a bear! Trixie screamed. Claire screamed, and Lucifer screamed.

“Lucifer!” Trixie’s scream of fear turned to one of jubilation. She ran forward and wrapped her arms around the Devil’s waist.

Lucifer was relieved to see her, but a prolonged hug was not warranted. “Urchin.” He carefully tried to unlock her grip.

“Claire, it’s Lucifer, we’re saved!”

“Where are the other, small humans?” Lucifer looked around.

“They got out. It’s just us,” Trixie informed him.

“That makes things easier. Fewer of you to be responsible for.”

“How did you get down here?” Claire wanted to know. “The entrance is blocked.”

“I fell down the well.” The Devil was always direct.

“You fell down the well? That’s stupid.” Claire wasn’t so sure this was a rescue party after all.

Lucifer made a face. “You’re stupid. Honestly, your brains are like half formed.”

Trixie took his hand. “I’m really sorry, Lucifer. We didn’t think anything would happen when we came down here.”

“Yes, well, it did. Now let’s get out of here.” Lucifer released her hand and started to lead the way.

“There’s no other way out,” Claire bemoaned.

“Just because you two haven’t found it, doesn’t mean there’s not one,” the Devil countered. “We’re looking for light, natural light. If there’s light, it’s coming from somewhere outside.”

“See, Claire, I told you there was another way,” Trixie goaded, and Claire rolled her eyes.

“Why did you all come down here?” Lucifer asked after a moment.

“It’s all Trixie’s fault!” Claire was quick to speak. “She brought me down here to scare me. She’s a jerk!”

Trixie stopped fast and Claire bumped into her. “You’re the jerk! You tore my jacket. You made me look like a clown!”

“You’re a bully!” Claire fired back.

“You’re the bully!”

Lucifer cast his eyes back up to the dark ceiling of the cave. “Hell wasn’t my punishment for the rebellion, was it? This, this is my punishment.” He took a breath. “All right, I don’t care whose fault it is! I don’t care what you all did to each other. We can sort that out topside. As of now, you are not to talk unless you see something helpful, you understand?”

The girls looked at him, their faces a mix of emotions. “Woah, dad mode Lucifer,” Trixie spoke at last.

Lucifer didn’t like the sound of that, and he shuddered. “Hardly, just be quiet and keep your eyes open.”

“Aye aye.” Trixie saluted and then zipped her lips. Lucifer shook his head and turned around. He could hear them following along behind him, and at least for now, they were quiet.

Back at the main campsite, Chloe was trying to hold herself together in the dining room. Everyone else was out helping, and she was stuck here. She had a new walkie talkie the first responders had left with her. She could hear them talking to one another, trying to formulate a plan from outside the caves. The problem was the stability of the site. How could they get in without causing more landslides?

Chloe clasped her hands and rested her head on them. They would find a way, she had to remain hopeful. But she had worked this job for years, and she knew full well that sometimes people couldn’t be saved, no matter how hard you tried. Chloe moved her hands down to her chin and looked up at the ceiling. She wasn’t a natural at praying. In fact, she was right awkward at it, but now was not the time for hesitation.

“I, uh, know this is weird because I’m dating your son, but that’s what you wanted, right? That was your plan?” She took a breath. “If that’s your plan, then you wouldn’t separate us. You wouldn’t hurt my daughter to get back at him, would you? I don’t know. I don’t know how this works.” Chloe put her hands on the table, trying to ground herself. “Please save them. Save Trixie and Claire. Don’t make them pay for the things Lucifer’s done.” No, those words didn’t taste right. She wanted Trixie and Claire safe above all else, but she also wanted Lucifer safe. “No, you’re going to save them all. Lucifer is a good person, and whatever he’s done, he’s paid for it and then some. You’re going to save them all, and you’ll bring Trixie and Lucifer back to me.” Chloe’s fingers found the bullet necklace around her neck and held fast to it. She was never without it. “He’s a good person, and I wish you could see him the way I do.”

“Any news?” Angelique asked from the doorway.

Chloe released the necklace and shook her head. “No.”

Angelique nodded but she remained in the doorway. “Do you mind if I come in?”

“I can’t stop you.”

Angelique gave a weak smile. “I’m sure you could if you tried.” Chloe didn’t respond and Angelique slowly entered the room, joining her on the other side of the table.

The room was tense and silent and Chole was about to leave. “Oh, I hate this,” Angelique spoke, her voice wavering. “I hate being here, feeling useless.”

“Me, too,” Chloe replied.

“I tried praying, but I’m not very good at it. I’m not sure God even listens to me. This is the first time I’ve prayed in years.”

“Me, too,” Chloe said again. She decided to stay, at least for the moment.

“I wish we had a direct line to Him, you know? Knew what He was really thinking.”

Chloe gave a small laugh. “It’d still be confusing.”

“Yeah, probably.” Angelique wiped at her eyes and there was silence once more. “Claire’s mine, you know, she’s the one thing I have that’s really mine. My money is my parents. My marriage fell apart, but Claire, she’s mine. She’s all I have in this world. And I know how she can be, believe me. I know how I can be. I know how we must seem to you.”

Chloe shook her head. “That doesn’t matter right now.”

“No, it does, because I think it got us here, or at least it didn’t help. I’m so worried people won’t like me; I always give them a reason not to. And Claire, she’s picked up on that. I heard the other girls talking. Claire wasn’t very nice to Trixie.”

Chloe watched the other woman for a moment. “I don’t make friends easy, either, and I know how Trixie can be, too. She’s strong headed and mischievous, and she wasn’t very nice to Velma. I, uh, should have said something to her, but I was too focused on my work, per usual.”

Angelique sighed. “We’re a pair, aren’t we?” She swallowed hard. “And I’m sorry about drugging the other moms. I was just trying to help them relax. I have a prescription drug problem. It’s something else I need to work on.”

“I drugged my boyfriend,” Chloe divulged. “We’ve all made mistakes this weekend.”

Angelique held out her hand and Chloe took it. It was strangely comforting. “Going forward, we both need to work at being better parents,” the Detective decided.

“And better people,” Angelique added.

“Chloe?” Velma spoke from the doorway.

Chloe released Angelique’s hand and motioned for the girl to come forward. She had obviously been crying for a while. “I’m so sorry about Trixie and Claire. I didn’t think anything would happen. They were just going down to the entrance. And I -I wanted the girls to like me, so I told Trixie how to take off the bands, and I told her how to get to the caves. I wanted them to be my friends. I never wanted them to get hurt.” Velma was sobbing again, her words getting caught up in her tears.

“Hey, hey, take a breath. We know. We know you didn’t mean for this to happen.” Chloe took Velma in her arms and held her tight. Angelique moved around the table and sat down on the other side. She put her hand on Velma’s back and rubbed comforting circles into the girl’s shirt.

Chloe looked at Angelique. For the first time since they’d entered that camp, they were living up to the words Rebecca DeVrey had left behind on the plaque hanging on the wall.

“Walk faster,” Claire whispered to Trixie.

“I’m going as fast as I can,” Trixie whispered back. “It’s hard in this water.”

“Then let me go first. I can go faster.” Claire tried to push ahead of her, but Trixie blocked her way.

“You heard what Lucifer said, we’re only supposed to talk if it’s helpful. So, keep your trap shut.”

“This is helpful to me. You’re too slow.”

“You’re too stupid, but you don’t hear me complaining,” Trixie retorted.

Claire’s eyes narrowed. “You’re just jealous.”

Trixie was shocked. “Jealous?! Of what?”

Lucifer stopped walking. Not this again. “Hey! Hey! I gave specific instructions.” He turned to look at them. “Honestly, demons take direction better than you lot.” Suddenly, there was another rumbling sound and rocks began to fall from overhead. The girls screamed and Lucifer hurried over to them. He pulled them close to him and shielded them with his body. Only a few moments after it had started, the rumbling stopped. Lucifer shook the rocks and dirt off his back and straightened up. “Are you both all right?”

“Yeah,” Trixie replied, and Claire nodded. Trixie shone her light up. “Lucifer, you’re bleeding.”

The Devil felt his forehead, and sure enough, he was bleeding from a cut on his scalp. “Oh, well that could be good news.”

“How is that good news?” Trixie was confused.

“Because it means help is close.” Lucifer looked around. Everything was still dark and dank, but if he was injured, he had to believe Chloe was nearby, hopefully with reinforcements.

“What now?” Claire was afraid to move away from the huddle they’d formed.

“Let’s wait one moment, just to be sure the shaky part is over.” Lucifer didn’t move. “I said less Old Testament you,” he whispered upwards.

There was silence for a moment and then Claire started to cry. “I am jealous. I’m jealous of you, Trixie.”

“What?”

“I don’t have any friends. Mom and I are always traveling somewhere. The other girls really like you, and I wanted them to like me,” Claire blubbered on. “I am a bully.”

Trixie started to cry, too, and Lucifer cringed. “What is going on here?” he asked.

“I’m a bully, too,” Trixie confessed. “I was mean to Velma, and I was mean to you.”

“But I was mean to you first. I don’t want to die down here!” Claire wailed.

“We’re not going to die down here. We’re going to get out and then we can be friends,” Trixie assured. She wiped her nose on her sleeve.

“I’d like to have a friend!” Claire wailed even louder.

“Urchin, make it stop. Find her off switch,” Lucifer pleaded.

Trixie wrapped Claire in a big hug and the girl calmed down. “Friends?” Trixie asked as they pulled apart.

“Friends,” Claire agreed.

“What’s going on? What just happened?” The Devil was so confused.

“We fought. We cried. We talked, and we hugged it out. We’re all good now,” Trixie explained.

“And that works?” Lucifer was skeptical.

“Yeah.” Trixie took Claire’s hand. “You can’t hold on to hate, Lucifer. You have to let it go.”

“I’m intrigued by your unorthodox methods. Maybe I should pay you for therapy, instead of Dr. Linda?” Lucifer looked down the tunnel ahead.

“You couldn’t afford me,” Trixie joked.

“Let’s press on, shall we?” Lucifer took a few steps. He heard some sloshing behind him but then silence. He instantly turned back.

“It’s getting harder to walk,” Trixie confessed. The water was just above her knees now.

“Right.” Lucifer walked over and considered Trixie for a second before scooping her up. “How about you, small human, can you walk?”

“I’m okay. I’m taller. Help Trixie.”

“Stay close,” Lucifer instructed. Claire automatically took his hand, which wasn’t what he meant, but he decided he could live with it. The group continued on through the caves.

Chloe heard the word come through the walkie talkie when the second landslide occurred. They’d been trying to move in a fire truck with a crane but had to stop. “I can’t stay here,” Chloe decided. “I’m going down there!” She left Velma with Angelique and took off for the old campsite. She had to believe that Lucifer was strong enough to push through, even if she were near, and that they’d all be okay.

The tunnel they were walking through opened into a larger chamber. The water was a little lower here. More importantly, there was light, natural light, streaming in from an opening up a hill of fallen rock. “Light! There’s light! Lucifer, there’s an opening!” the girls talked over one another.

There was a larger rock sticking out of the water in the center of the chamber. Lucifer walked to it and set Trixie on it. Claire followed up after her. “Wait here,” he told them. Lucifer took his jacket off and discarded it at the bottom of the hill. He unbuttoned his cuffs, rolled up his sleeves, and began to climb. He slowly made his way up, trying not to slide back down. The opening at the top wasn’t very big. His guess was it had been created in one of the recent landslides. He couldn’t fit through it, but the girls could. He would need to help them through, and it would be best if someone were on the other side to carefully guide them out. Lucifer knew what he had to do, even though he hated it.

He closed his eyes and silently called out to his brother. If he were still around, he’d come, Lucifer knew he would. He called out again, and it was like opening a door that had been closed for a long time. It was squeaky, but it worked. He heard the unmistakable fluttering of wings. “Made it out of the well, I see,” Michael quipped.

Lucifer opened his eyes. He really hoped this wasn’t a mistake. “No thanks to you,” the Devil pointed out.

“Amenadiel’s sniffing around . . . Wait, are you bleeding? Why are you bleeding?” Michael couldn’t mask his confusion or his concern. Celestials could make other celestials bleed, but Michael didn’t sense any other such beings there, apart from the two of them.

“It’s a thing I do sometimes. Michael, I need your help getting the girls out.”

“Why are you bleeding?” Michael was still stuck on that.

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “Do keep up. I need you to stay there, right there. I’ll bring the girls up, one at a time, and you need to help them out. Be careful. If we bump into the wall too much, the whole thing might come down.” He’d worry about what he’d tell Trixie about his twin brother after they were out of the cave safe and sound.

Back in the water, Claire looked down off their rock. She felt uneasy and scared, which didn’t make sense, because they’d found a way out. The water seemed to be rising around them, and that made her panic even more. “The water, it’s rising.” She tugged on Trixie’s arm.

“Claire, it’s okay, we found a way out. I think Lucifer found help, too. He’s talking to someone.”

Claire shook her head. “No, it’s taking too long. We need to get out now.” She tried to jump off the rock, but her foot caught in a crevice and held her fast. She cried out in pain and tried to yank her foot free. “I’m stuck! I’m stuck! I’m going to drown, Trixie! I’m stuck!” She started to hyperventilate.

“Calm down. I’ll get you!” Trixie knelt to try and free Claire’s foot, but the taller girl was flailing too much. Trixie started to panic, too. Her confidence from just moments ago was gone. “Claire, I can’t get it. I can’t get it. Lucifer, we need help!”

Lucifer looked down the hill to the struggling girls. “Bloody hell. What is wrong with them?” He felt the tension and fear in the air around him. He’d felt that fear all night, and he suddenly realized where it was coming from. “You’re doing this. Stop it,” he hissed at his brother.

“I’m not doing it on purpose, Sam, I promise. I just, I don’t understand.” Michael was clearly frazzled by the whole situation.

Lucifer overlooked the name his brother had called him. He rolled his eyes. “Hand, give me your hand.”

“What?”

“Give me your hand,” Lucifer insisted.

Michael reached one hand and forearm through the opening. Lucifer clasped it in his. It had been eons since they’d done this, balanced each other, and Lucifer didn’t know if it was still possible. But there it was, that old feeling of wholeness and connection. The fear hanging in the air abated considerably, and Lucifer released his brother’s hand. Michael drew it back slowly, almost like he didn’t want to let go.

“Claire, I got your foot. You’re free!” Trixie announced as she pulled Claire’s foot out of the crevice.

“I – I can’t breathe.” Claire was unstable on her feet.

“Lucifer!” Trixie called out.

Lucifer slid down the rock slope. He managed to catch Claire as she slumped over. “Is she okay?!” Trixie was terrified all over again. “Is she breathing?!”

“She’s breathing. I think she scared herself and fainted.” Lucifer picked the girl up. The ankle she’d gotten stuck was already starting to swell. “Don’t worry, we’re getting out now. You wait here. Do not move, you understand me?” Trixie nodded.

Lucifer held Claire close to him as he made his way back up the rock hill. “Michael, are you still there?”

“Yeah, I’m still here.”

Lucifer had never been happier to hear his twin’s voice. “Okay, I’m going to pass Claire through to you. Take her carefully, don’t smack her ankle or head on anything.”

“What happened to her?”

“She got scared and passed out,” Lucifer explained as he struggled to get Claire in the right position to pass her through the opening.

“That’s a terrible design flaw,” Michael expressed.

“Just take her, carefully. Carefully,” Lucifer reminded as he started to pass the girl through. Michael looked flummoxed, but he did as instructed.

The Archangel looked terribly uncomfortable holding the girl in his arms, but at least she was out. “What do I do with her?”

“Set her down gently. I’m going to bring Trixie up next.” Lucifer started to move back down the hill, but there was another rumbling sound. The ground underneath him shifted and more rocks came from above, pelting him as he slid to the bottom. A large rock struck his right shoulder, dislocating his arm. Lucifer yelped in pain.

Like before, the rumbling only lasted a few seconds, but the damage had been done. When the Devil looked back, he saw the opening was all but closed. The stream of light was nothing but a flicker. “Lucifer, are you okay?!” Trixie called out. At least the urchin was okay. That was good.

Lucifer lifted up his limp arm. Yep, he was hurt. “I’m still here urchin. Just stay, stay there.”

“Sam, can you hear me?! What’s going on?!” Michael shouted from the other side.

Despite his pain, Lucifer inched his way up. He couldn’t get right back to the opening, but he could get close enough. “Take Claire. Take her to Amenadiel. She needs help, Michael. Tell Amenadiel we’re headed to the . . . .” Where were they headed? Drat, Lucifer had no idea.

The Devil sat there for a minute, breathing hard, and then he heard it, a voice loud and clear saying, “To the well. Go to the well.”

“Tell him we’re going to the well,” Lucifer imparted. Michael was still hesitating. Lucifer could feel it. “Go now!” Then Lucifer heard the flutter of wings and he knew his brother was gone.

“Is Claire okay?” Trixie asked as Lucifer slowly made his way back to her.

“Yes, she’s safe, but we can’t get out that way now.”

“Lucifer, you’re hurt.” Trixie reached out to him and he jerked away from her.

“Yes, urchin. I seem to have dislocated my arm.” Lucifer looked at his injured appendage. After centuries of living with Maze, he knew how to pop just about every part of his body back into place. It was never pleasant, though, and he had a feeling this time would be especially painful. “Close your eyes and cover your ears,” he told Trixie. Much to his surprise, she followed orders.

Lucifer moved a good distance away from her. He took a breath and then slammed his shoulder into a nearby stalagmite, popping it back into place. He wasn’t sure what all he screamed, but he knew it was loud. Trixie removed her hands. “What kind of language was that?”

Lucifer swallowed his urge to vomit. “Ancient.”

Trixie studied his sallow expression and climbed off the rock. “Sit here.”

“Do what?”

“Sit here,” she instructed. Trixie sloshed over to Lucifer’s discarded jacket. It was wet and dirty, but it would have to do.

“Urchin, we need to keep moving. We’re heading to the well.”

“Not without a sling.” Trixie stared Lucifer down until he sat. “Thank you.”

As carefully as she could, Trixie worked with Lucifer to get his arm in the makeshift sling and tie it around his neck. “Where’d you learn to do this?” he asked her.

“I’m a Girl Scout, duh.”

Lucifer adjusted his arm and flinched, but it did feel more secure. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Lucifer got to his feet. The water was rising here. It was up to Trixie’s knees now. “It’s okay. I can walk,” she assured him.

“We’ll move fast. Help will be waiting for us at the well.” Lucifer took Trixie’s hand and looked around. But which way was the well?

“This way,” that same voice seemed to call. “This way.”

“Come on, this way.” Lucifer held Trixie’s hand tighter and they started to walk.

“Amenadiel. Amenadiel,” Michael whispered from the bushes. Amenadiel tried to ignore his brother at first. “I have a girl. Please take her from me,” Michael whispered next and Amenadiel couldn’t ignore that.

“You have a what?” He walked over to his brother. And sure enough, he was holding onto an unconscious young girl. “Where did you find her?”

“Samael gave her to me. She passed out, and her ankle may be hurt, but I think she’s okay otherwise.” Amenadiel continued to stare at him. “Please take her from me.”

“Oh, right.” Amenadiel reached out and took the girl. “Where’s Lucifer?”

“There was another rockslide and the opening he was using closed up. Sam said he’s going to the well. He’s taking Trixie to there. You can get him out, right?” Michael pressed. Amenadiel didn’t know what to say. It was like turning the clock back to a time when Michael had called his brother by their childhood nickname and actually cared about him.

“Yeah, we can get them out. I’ll tell the others. Thank you, Michael.” The words tasted foreign on his tongue.

“He was bleeding, Amenadiel. He was hurt. How can that be?” Michael wanted to know.

Amenadiel hesitated. Michael was being helpful, but he was still Michael and giving him too much information could be dangerous. “It happens sometimes. It’s an Earth thing.” With that, Amenadiel took off. He found the first responders and handed Claire over to them.

“Chloe, Chloe, they’re heading to the well! We have the other girl, she’s safe, but Trixie and Lucifer couldn’t get out. He said they’re going to the well.”

The Detective was both relieved and terrified. “The well! We have to go to the well!” She told the gathered group. “Who told you that?” she asked the angel.

“Michael. He helped get Claire out,” Amenadiel divulged.

“Michael?!” Chloe’s eyes went wide. “Can we trust him?”

“I think we have to.” The angel leaned in closer to her. “He said Lucifer was hurt.”

Chloe gripped his arm. “How hurt?”

“He said he was bleeding.”

Chloe rounded on the rescue crew. “We have to get to the well now!”

“We can try and move the firetruck in, pull them up with a rescue harness,” the head of the search and rescue crew explained. The group moved in mass from the caves and headed for the well.

“Come on, just a little further, Lucifer,” Trixie encouraged. She’d crawled through to the well, but Lucifer was understandably struggling with it. “You can do it.”

“Not sure how much the pep talk is helping,” Lucifer gritted out as he continued to crawl on one arm.

“Of course, it is. Come on, you’re almost there.” Trixie stepped back as Lucifer finally made it out of the tunnel and slowly stood. The sun was bright above them. At least there was light here, as annoying as it was directly overhead.

“And here I am, back where I started,” the Devil surmised. “Just as charming as I remember it.”

The water was lower here, but it still covered Trixie’s feet. “How are we going to get out?” She looked up. It was a long way to the top.

“Help is coming, urchin. I promise.” Lucifer leaned against the rock wall, trying to conserve his strength.

“I believe you, Lucifer. I always believe you.” Trixie leaned against the wall beside him, but she didn’t touch him. She knew he was hurting. “I’m really glad you’re with my mom. You make her happy.”

Lucifer felt his heart flutter. “She makes me happy, too.”

“I know.” Trixie smiled.

From above, there was the sound of movement. “Trixie! Lucifer!” a familiar voice called out.

“Mom!”

“Detective!”

Chloe looked down and she wanted to cry. There they were. There they both were. “Are you all okay? Are you hurt?”

“Lucifer’s arm is dislocated!” Trixie shouted up. “I put a sling on it!”

“That’s my clever girl.” Chloe smiled, trying to mask her fear. “We’re going to toss a radio down to you in a plastic bag, okay?”

“You’ll have to catch it,” Lucifer told her. “Be ready with both hands. You’ve got this.”

“Here it comes!” Chloe warned.

The radio came fast, but Trixie caught it like a pro. “Well done, urchin.”

“This is Fire Chief Edwards, we’re going to be sending down a rescue harness. Once you get the harness, we’ll explain the straps. Lucifer, you’ll hook Trixie in first. We’ll bring her up and then lower it again for you. Do you understand?”

Lucifer took the radio from Trixie. “I am down an arm, Chief, but I suppose we can manage it.”

“We’ll get you out. Just hang tight. Won’t be long,” the voice on the radio assured.

“They should take you first,” Trixie countered. “You’re hurt. You need more help than I do.”

Lucifer smiled. “Admirable, urchin, but you know the saying, women and urchins first.” Trixie laughed. She could laugh now that they were almost out.

“Oh man, my mom is going to kill me,” she suddenly realized. “I am so grounded.”

Above, they slowly backed the fire truck to the well, but the wheels eventually caught, spinning in the wet earth. “That’s as far as it’ll go, Chief!” the driver called out.

“Lower the harness from there. We’ll see if it reaches,” Chief Edwards decided.

“No video games. No phone. No Internet,” Trixie bemoaned from below.

“I can argue on your behalf,” Lucifer offered. “You did sling my arm.”

A noise from above caught their attention and they could see the harness being lowered down, at an agonizingly slow speed. “Of course,” Lucifer sighed. Why should they hurry now? He leaned back against the wall, waiting for the blasted thing to finally reach them.

Suddenly, there was a deep rumbling noise, louder than any of the earlier ones had been. This one sounded like a freight train barreling right for them. “It’s the water,” that voice told him. “It’s coming your way.”

“What’s that?” a rescue worker asked.

Recognition hit Chloe hard. She knew that sound from the book. “It’s the water!” she called.

“Water’s breaking through!” Brad shouted.

“It has to go faster!” Chloe told the Chief.

“Back the truck up!” the Chief instructed.

The driver gunned it, but the wheels only spun in the mud. “It won’t go! It’s stuck!”

“Trixie, get up here,” Lucifer told her. He held out his good arm for her.

“But your arm,” she protested.

“Get up here!” And Trixie did. She jumped and let Lucifer hoist her off the ground. He maneuvered her so that her arms were wrapped around his neck. It wasn’t pleasant for his injured shoulder, but there was no other way. “You listen to me. The water is coming and it’s going to hit fast. You hold on to me, okay? You hold on to me and you keep your head above water. You understand me?!”

Trixie nodded. Lucifer looked up at the harness, but it was still coming too slowly. “When that harness gets here, you grab it. You grab it and you let them pull you up.”

“No, I won’t leave you,” Trixie insisted, tears welling up in her eyes.

“You have to. You have to.” But Lucifer was out of time to argue with her. The water crashed through the caves and hit him with enough force to knock him off balance. He hit the opposite wall; his feet washing out from under him.

Above, it was organized chaos. Everyone was calling out different instructions, and the truck’s wheels were still spinning. Then everything was slower, quieter. Amenadiel braced himself against the front of the fire truck, pushing it back inch by inch. He didn’t know how long he’d be able to keep time slowed for. He was surprised, but thankful, he’d been able to slow it at all. A part of him wanted to pick the truck up and set it down right beside the well, but he had to do this in a controlled way. If he moved the truck too much, he might jostle something below, and he didn’t want to make things worse for Trixie and Lucifer when time sped back up.

“Come on. Come on,” he muttered as he continued to push.

He heard the sound of wings and then Michael was there. His brother leaned in to push with him. He stopped, considered his bad shoulder, and turned so that his good shoulder was pressing into the truck. “On three. One, two, three,” Amenadiel instructed and they gave it all they had.

In the well, Lucifer had never been more grateful for his older brother’s powers. The harness was closer now, and he was able to keep Trixie’s head above the water. But all too soon it was over, and time was back to normal and the water was crashing all around them. “Trixie, grab the, grab the harness,” Lucifer struggled to direct as he swallowed a mouthful of water.

Trixie strained and was able to grab the harness on the second try. She held onto the harness and pulled herself up onto it. “Take her!” Lucifer called up.

“We’ve got the girl, bring it up!” the Chief instructed.

“Hang on, Trixie!” Chloe shouted.

Lucifer was holding his own treading water, but his shoelace suddenly snagged and caught on a jagged stone and held him fast. The water quickly went over his head. “Lucifer, no!” Trixie slid down the harness, no longer fully on it.

“Hold on, the girl’s not in it!” the Chief cried out and everything halted.

“Trixie, get in the harness!” Chloe screamed at her daughter.

“Lucifer, take my hand!” Trixie reached into the water, desperately pulling at Lucifer’s arm.

Beneath the water, the Devil couldn’t understand why they weren’t taking the girl up. More than that, he couldn’t understand why she was so insistent on saving him. Lucifer tried to shake his leg loose, but it was of no use. He was still stuck. Lucifer tried to get his foot out of his shoe, but he was wearing down fast. His lungs were starting to burn. If he stayed under long enough, he’d surely die. For the second time in his life, he prayed directly to his Father. He’d done this once before for Chloe and now he would do it for her daughter. “Dad, you have to save Trixie. If you want me to stay at the bottom of this well, I will. If you want me to go back to hell and never come back to earth, fine. But please, please save Trixie.”

Lucifer felt something grab his foot, almost like a hand. Whatever it was, it unhooked his shoelace and gave him a firm, strong push up. Lucifer gasped as he returned to the surface. He saw Trixie, and he knew what he had to do. Lucifer reached up with his good arm and grabbed the harness. “Trixie, hang on to me!” he told her. The girl clung to him and he pulled them both into the harness.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was good enough. “We’ve got ‘em! Go, raise it up!” the Chief directed.

It was a tight fit, but Lucifer figured they’d just make it. Good thing Trixie was still a kid. Sure enough, the crane pulled them up and out of the well. Trixie had her eyes closed and her fingers were holding him so tightly they were digging into his wet skin, but Lucifer didn’t care. They were out and they were safe.

The crane lowered them slowly to the ground and then the world exploded around them. There was Chloe and the paramedics, and everyone wanted to touch them, check on them. Trixie wouldn’t let him go, though. “Wait! Everybody wait!” Lucifer cried out. “Just, give us a minute.” He rested his hand on Trixie’s back. “Trixie, do you hear that? That’s us breathing and that’s our hearts beating. We’re all right. We’re safe.”

The girl slowly opened her eyes end looked up at him. “Okay?” he asked her.

“Okay,” she decided. Trixie gently released her fingers and sat up. “Mommy!” she called and reached out. Chole took her into her arms.

Lucifer was still lying on the ground. He managed to lock eyes with the Detective. “We are never going camping again,” he told her.

About twenty minutes later, Lucifer was sitting in an ambulance, a proper sling on his arm and a bandage on his head. He needed to go to the hospital for an immobilizer and some stitches, but other than that he was fine. Best of all, Trixie didn’t have a scratch on her. He watched as Trixie reunited with Claire. The other girl had an ambulance of her own. Her hurt foot was wrapped up, but that was all. Given everything that had happened, they were remarkably lucky.

Trixie climbed into Claire’s ambulance and the two held each other tight. Angelique was in there with here daughter, too. And soon all of the Scouts and their mothers were joining the scene and the hugging only intensified. Even Velma was a part of the group, no longer standing apart or hanging in the back. Normally, a site like this would make Lucifer sick to his stomach, but he wasn’t nauseous in the least.

Chloe climbed up into the ambulance and sat beside him. She watched the girls as they compared stories and battle wounds. One hundred years ago, a reunion like this hadn’t been possible. It almost hadn’t happened today. Chloe wished it hadn’t taken an emergency to bring them all together, but they could grow from here. None of them were leaving Camp Wildbegone the same person they’d been when they’d entered.

Chloe took Lucifer’s good hand and held onto it. “Thank you, for saving her.”

“That goes without saying.” Lucifer smiled at her.

She gently touched his bruised head. “I tried to stay away for as long as I could.”

The Devil shrugged. “I’ve had worse. I got this during the second landslide of two thousand and twenty,” he joked.

Wait, the second one? Chloe paused as she mapped out the timeline. She’d still been at the main campsite then, far away from the caves. “Lucifer, I don’t think it was me making you vulnerable this time,” she realized. “I think it was Trixie.”

Lucifer stared at her for a moment. “You women will be the death of me,” he told her. But then his expression changed, softening, and becoming serious all at the same time. “I would never let anything happen to her, Chloe. I would have died and gone to hell and clawed my way back if need be.”

Chloe took his face between her hands and kissed him. “I know. I know.” She wiped a tear from her cheek and squeezed his hand one more time.

“Decker, we need your signature.” Wilkes pulled her attention away.

“I’ll be right back,” Chloe assured him before stepping out of the ambulance. After she’d signed what she needed to, a figure caught her eyes from the bushes. It was a figure she was very acquainted with.

Chloe stepped into the bushes. Michael hung back, not wanting to be seen. “Is, uh, your daughter okay?”

“Yes. She’s fine.” This was the first time the Detective had seen him since she’d shot him in the penthouse. The gash on his face was new. It’d be harder for him to impersonate Lucifer now. A part of her wanted to feel bad about it, but another part of her thought it served him right. Then again, he had been helpful today.

Michael cleared his throat. “And Sa – Lucifer, he’s . . .”

“He’s fine, too.”

Michael nodded and an awkward silence grew between them. “Thank you,” Chloe spoke at last. “For helping them.”

“I wasn’t going to let a kid drown. Hello, angel.” Michael gave her a lopsided smile, and then he was gone.

In the ambulance, Lucifer leaned back against the gurney. His arm really hurt, and he was looking forward to his next drink with a passion so strong, it momentarily rivaled his passion for physical relations. When he looked back up, he saw the girl from the hallway. She was standing in the middle of everything in her white dress, but no one else seemed to see her. Lucifer didn’t know what else to do, so he raised his mobile hand and waved at her. Catherine smiled and waved back and then she was gone.


	18. I Mean it Now

“Is that too tight or anything?” the nurse asked as he adjusted Lucifer’s arm in the black, immobilizer sling. 

Lucifer grimaced slightly. “It’s not exactly pleasant, but at least it’s only temporary.”

“I’ll go and get your pain pill prescription and your after-care instructions, and then you all are good to go,” the nurse told them.

“Oh, pain pills, I do like that sound of that.” Lucifer smiled.

“Be right back.” The nurse stepped around the curtain. 

“Don’t worry, Lucifer, I’ll draw a pretty picture on it for you,” Trixie assured the Devil. She gently touched his sling. They were both dressed in dry, clean scrubs. Trixie had even scored a small set, which she was super excited about because she did pull her doctor kit out occasionally at home when a toy needed mending or Maze showed up with more of her unexplained injuries. 

“It’s not a cast, Monkey,” her mother pointed out. Chloe was envious of their clean clothes, but she supposed it was only fair that they’d gotten to change seeing as they were the ones who’d been soaked.

“Yes, material’s rather dark for your scribblings,” Lucifer added.

“I have metallic Sharpies.” Trixie was undeterred. “And glitter glue.” Her eyes lit up with an idea. “Oh, I can do stars, constellations, the whole night sky.” She tentatively explored her canvas.

The Devil gave his girlfriend a pleading look. Chloe put a firm hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “Let’s just get home first.”

“I think this is curtain area three,” a voice spoke from the other side. It sounded familiar, but it wasn’t the nurse. No, it was Fred and Daphne from Camp Wildbegone. Fred pulled back the curtain. “Here they are.”

“Oh my gosh, are you guys okay?” Daphne handed a large bouquet of flowers to Chloe. “We didn’t get to see you after the rescue, and we just wanted to be sure.”

“I’ve been better, but I’ve also been worse,” Lucifer decided.

“Wow, thank you for the flowers.” Trixie smelled the bouquet.

“Yes, it was sweet of you to come by,” Chloe told them. She had grown rather fond of the young counselors.

“We’re a team,” Fred reminded them. “Teammates check on one another.” His smile was so genuine and open.

“So, what will you all do now?” Chloe asked them. She was concerned for them, what with the future of the camp up in the air.

“We have interviews at Camp Crystal Waters. They need counselors, and they’re not too far from here,” Daphne imparted.

Lucifer was gobsmacked. “You’re going to work at another camp? Are you daft?”

Fred looked at Daphne. “No, we decided we’re pretty good at this counselor thing, and we’re also good at solving mysteries.”

“Get this, Camp Crystal Waters has a ghost, too, but I bet it’s something else,” Daphne whispered conspiratorially.

“Or someone else,” Fred tacked on.

“Well, the best of luck to you both.” And Chloe meant it with every fiber of her being.

Lucifer held out his hand. “Fred, give me your mobile.”

The counselor didn’t question it, he just handed the Devil his cellphone. “Sure.”

Chloe tried to watch over Lucifer’s shoulder to be sure her boyfriend wasn’t typing anything untoward. “This is my personal Facebook account. There are lots of people pretending to be me, but this is the actual one.”

Fred took his phone back. “Awesome. I’ll send you a friend request.”

“We hope you get to feeling better, Lucifer. And thank you all, so much, for everything.” Daphne gave Chloe a hug.

“I hope you like your new camp,” Trixie spoke up.

“I’m sure we will.” Fred ruffled her drying hair. “See you all around.”

“Bye, take care,” Chloe replied.

“You know, Fred, it said they needed multiple counselors. I might ask some of my friends to apply. Believe it or not, I’ve got a girlfriend named Velma,” Daphne imparted as they walked away. “I also have a friend named Norville.”

“Norville?”

“It’s a family name, but he goes by his nickname. He has a super cute dog,” Daphne continued.

Fred nodded. “How do you feel about vintage vans?”

As soon as the counselors were gone, Chloe turned her attention to Lucifer. “You have a personal Facebook? You made me follow your fanpage.”

The Devil looked flustered. “We weren’t at that level of commitment yet.”

“Oh, you’re in trouble.” Trixie clucked her tongue in mock disapproval.

Chloe kissed Lucifer on the non-bandaged part of his forehead. “No, no one’s in trouble, not today.”

“Trixie!” a familiar voice called. They all looked up to see Detective Espinoza hobbling his way to them.

“Seriously, someone else who’s not the nurse? Where did he get to?” Lucifer grumbled.

“Daddy!” Trixie flung herself into her father’s midsection as soon as he was within reach. He looked like he might throw up from the impact on his surgery site, but he held on tight, nonetheless.

“Easy, Monkey, Daddy had surgery, remember?” Chloe pulled her daughter back slightly. “Dan, I told you we’d call when we got home.”

“I know, Chloe, but I couldn’t wait. I had to see her,” Dan insisted, almost in tears. And Chloe understood that.

“How did you get here?” she wanted to know. She knew her ex was in no condition to drive having just been released from the hospital himself. 

“I got an Uber.”

“And you couldn’t make a stop for flowers or a card?” Lucifer scoffed. “Honestly, Daniel, I brought you an entire basket when you were in hospital. The counselors could be bothered to bring us flowers,” the Devil pointed out.

Dan ignored Lucifer’s complaints. He walked over to him and took the other man in an awkward hug. He had to be careful of his abdomen and Lucifer’s arm, but it was a touching sight, nonetheless. Well, touching to Chloe. “What are you doing?” Lucifer was confused. 

Dan pulled away and braced himself on the edge of the bed. “Thank you for saving Trixie.”

“Of course, Daniel, that goes without saying. I would never let anything happen to the urchin.”

“I’m the urchin.” Trixie beamed. “He calls me that because he cares.”

Lucifer made a face. “Don’t go spreading it around.”

“I know he cares, Monkey.” Dan gently stroked his daughter’s cheek. He motioned for Chloe to step aside with him.

“Seriously, Dan, you need to go home. You are really pale.” Chloe placed a steadying hand on his arm.

“I know. But I think we need to have a family meeting soon.”

The Detective nodded her head. “I agree. Trixie’s off tomorrow for a three-day weekend, but I was going to keep her home Tuesday, too, spend some time with her.”

“I’ll come over Tuesday,” Dan decided.

“We’ll come to you,” Chloe amended.

“I’ll make tacos then,” Dan revised.

“Only if you feel up to it,” Chloe enforced. She didn’t want Dan to push himself any further than he already had.

Dan looked back to where Trixie was telling Lucifer exactly what every flower in the bouquet was. He was less than enthralled, but he was humoring her. “And, uh, you can invite Lucifer. I think you should invite Lucifer,” Dan amended.

Chloe gave a small smile. “Okay.”

“All right, here’s your prescription and your after-care instructions,” the nurse spoke as he returned. He handed the slips of paper to Lucifer.

“Finally, that was interminable,” the Devil sighed. 

“Remember to take it easy for the next week and come in for a follow up check. You’ll need help these next few days,” the nurse reminded him.

“He’ll have help,” Chloe assured.

“Take care,” the nurse said as he left.

“Come on, Monkey, let’s get Daddy home before he falls over.”

“What about Lucifer?” Trixie wanted to know.

The Detective gave her boyfriend a look. As much as she wanted him to come home with them, she also knew he’d heal much faster if they were apart for a while. “I’m going home for a bit,” Lucifer divulged, stepping in to save her.

“But what about help? Do you have help at home?” Trixie pressed.

Lucifer smiled. “Yes, urchin, I have shelves and bottles full of help.” He couldn’t wait to get back to them.

Lucifer was finally back in his loft after what felt like an eternity. He’d had a proper shower, changed into one of his favorite suits, sans the jacket. (Stupid sling.) He was pouring himself the largest drink he could, overjoyed to be at home at his bar with his top-shelf liquor. Just as he’d taken that first, amazing sip, the elevator doors opened and out walked a jubilant Amenadiel.

“Luci, you’re home!”

Lucifer held up his finger and downed the rest of his drink in one, impressive gulp. “Oh, that’s better.” He reached for the bottle and refilled his glass.

“How are you feeling?” Amenadiel walked over and sat by his side on the nearest stool.

“My arm hurts like hell, no pun intended, but this is helping.” He took another long drink.

“Do you want me to keep the club closed tonight, give you a chance to rest?”

Lucifer shook his head. “No, open up. I like the dull roar beneath me. It’s like a warm blanket.”

“I can get someone else to run the floor this evening. I can stay up here with you,” Amenadiel offered.

“No, I’m all right,” his brother assured. “I got a shower, properly dressed myself.”

“Yeah, I was wondering about the suit. Aren’t you supposed to keep the sling on?”

Lucifer scowled. “I wasn’t going to sit around in scrubs. This is my loft, and I wanted to be comfortable.”

Amenadiel chuckled. “Only you, Luci.”

The Devil slid an empty glass over to him. “If you’re going to sit there, fix yourself a drink.”

Amenadiel did as instructed and they drank in comfortable silence for a moment. “Thank you, for coming to assist today,” Lucifer spoke at last. 

“Of course.”

Lucifer drained another glass and cleared his throat. “The Detective has an interesting theory about my injuries.”

“What’s that?”

“She, uh, thinks they were caused by Trixie and not by her.” Lucifer ran his finger cautiously around the rim of his glass. “She thinks Trixie makes me vulnerable.” Amenadiel didn’t respond and Lucifer looked over at him. The angel had a dopey expression plastered across his face. “What, what is that?”

“What?” Amenadiel wanted to know, but his expression didn’t change.

“That stupid look on your face.”

“Luci, do you know what this means?” his brother pressed.

“That there are now two people I have to watch out for?” Lucifer busied himself with fixing another drink.

“No, it means you care for Trixie, too. The three of you are a family,” Amenadiel explained.

Lucifer visibly flinched at those words. “I, uh, don’t know I’d go that far. The Detective and I are an item, but . . .” Lucifer didn’t know how to finish that statement, so he didn’t.

“You love Chloe, and Trixie is her daughter. She’s a part of Chloe, so you care for her. You’re like a da . . .”

Lucifer put his good hand over his brother’s mouth. “Don’t say it. Don’t ever say it.”

Amenadiel held up his hands and Lucifer uncovered his mouth. That dopey look was still on his brother’s face, though, and Lucifer fought the urge to knock it off with his fist. He was too tired for that. “Having a kid changes your life, Luci,” Amenadiel continued on. “When I had Charlie, it turned my world upside down. I didn’t know I could love another being as much as I love him.”

“Okay, new topic of discussion,” Lucifer spoke loudly. “Ghosts, do they exist?”

“Of course not,” Amenadiel replied, like it was the most obvious thing. He would humor his brother in this change of conversation.

“I thought so, too, but then I saw one.” Lucifer took a big swallow of his drink.

“It was the humans doing it, though, right?” Amenadiel was confused. Chloe had said the camp director and his toadies had been pulling the strings.

“Yes, there was some smoke and mirrors, with an assist from my dickhead twin nonetheless, but there was something else, too. A girl in a simple white dress.” Lucifer turned his glass round and round on the bar. He was still trying to make sense of it all. “She, uh, led me to the well. I saw her, Amenadiel. I could feel her influence and she wasn’t human, and she wasn’t celestial, she was – something altogether different. I think I saw her throughout the whole weekend, looking back at it. I believe she was the one who kept telling me my shoelaces were a problem.”

“Your shoelaces?” Amenadiel looked down at his brother’s shoes.

“Not these shoes. I tossed those others down the incinerator.” Lucifer paused for a drink. “When we were down in the well and the water was rising, my shoelace got snagged and I got caught. I was resigned to drown as long as Trixie was saved, but then someone grabbed my foot, pulled my lace loose, and pushed me up to the surface.” The Devil looked at his brother searching for an answer, an explanation.

“That could have been Father,” Amenadiel offered in a helpful tone.

Lucifer scoffed. “Our Father isn’t exactly keen on pushing me up.” He shook his head. “No, I think it was this girl. I saw her again after I was saved, and she waved at me. She seemed happy.”

“What did you do?”

“I waved back.”

“And no one else saw her?” Lucifer shook his head, and a contemplative silence grew between them.

“There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy,” Amenadiel voiced after a time. 

Lucifer gave a small smirk. “And he quotes Shakespeare.”

“Our Father works in mysterious ways, Luci.” Amenadiel reached out and put a comforting hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“I don’t care for this topic of conversation either,” Lucifer decided. He refilled his glass. “Next time you visit the Silver City, though, do a poll on ghosts. I’d be interested in hearing the results.”

“Okay.” Amenadiel let it go for now.

“Don’t you have my club to open?” Lucifer pressed.

“You know you can take it back anytime, right?” Nothing would make Amenadiel happier than to return management Lux to his younger brother.

“I know you trust our Father, dear brother, but I do not. The moment I get comfortable, fall back into my old pattern, he’ll send me back to hell for sure.”

Amenadiel was not going to have this argument with Lucifer again, so he didn’t take the bait. “I’ll text Enrique, tell him to go ahead and open up. I’ll go down in a minute.”

“Suit yourself.” Lucifer was secretly glad for his brother’s company. He couldn’t be with Chloe right now, and he wasn’t quite ready to be alone just yet.

“Is there anything else you want to talk about?” Amenadiel asked after he’d sent the text. “Anyone else who was there and maybe helped out?”

“Lots of people helped out.” Lucifer was not going to take that bait.

“I, uh, saw Michael. Saw his face.” There was no tiptoeing around it now.

Lucifer downed another drink. “That was a favor, like putting a bell on an annoying dog to warn people it’s around.”

“Luci . . .”

“You can go now,” Lucifer announced. He grabbed a bottle and left the bar, heading for the couch. Maybe Amenadiel had overstayed his welcome after all.

The older angel would not be deterred, though. He picked up his drink and slowly made his way to the other couch, directly across from his brother. “I haven’t finished my drink yet.”

Lucifer didn’t reply, but he didn’t kick him out, either. The Devil turned his attention to his coffee table. The contents of a case file were strewn across it.

Amenadiel’s eyes narrowed. “Is this the case file?”

“I’ll take it back,” Lucifer retorted. “I spent most of today underground, so I wanted to catch up on some things.” He picked up a piece of paper and used it to block his view of Amenadiel.

The room was silent once more, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable anymore. Amenadiel finished his drink slowly. One of two things would happen. Either Lucifer would ask him to leave, or he’d say what he really wanted to. 

“Maze won’t speak to me,” Lucifer said, his voice rather small. “Whenever I was in trouble, she used to come running, but that was out of obligation, and that’s not our relationship anymore.” Lucifer set the paper aside, but he didn’t look Amenadiel in the eyes. “She’s mad at me, I know that, but I have no idea what I’ve done. So, it’s silence, for now. I could shrug my shoulders and say “that’s Maze” and go on with it. We’ll do this dance and she’ll tell me eventually, with her fist no doubt, and we’ll get over it.”

“That’s her M.O.,” Amenadiel agreed.

“Yes, but this time Trixie could have been lost, and Maze didn’t check in, and I know how she feels about that urchin despite her protestations.” Lucifer cleared his throat and adjusted his hurt arm. “What if, this thing between us, this thing I’ve supposedly done, what if it’s too big?”

“What do you mean?”

Lucifer looked down at the case file before him. “What if it’s something I can’t take back? Is it an ill placed letter that leads to certain death or a slushy and chili fries that destroys another person’s psyche?”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“When does it become too much, the hurt you’ve done another person, the blows you’ve dealt? And I know Maze is a demon, but she has limits, too. I suspect we all do.” Lucifer leaned back against the couch and looked out the window to his balcony. “I spent the weekend with a seemingly lovely girl who’d been so damaged by another person, she ended up killing the other person years after the fact.”

“A terrible tragedy,” Amenadiel commented.

Lucifer sucked on his teeth and let out an odd noise. “Before I knew you were around, I called to Michael for help, and he came. He knows I’m vulnerable now, so that will be fun, but it also unnerved him and I, uh, had to take his arm and get him to calm down because he was spiraling and I - we hadn’t done that in a long time.”

“He did help, Lucifer.”

The Devil got up and went to the bar to fetch another bottle. “I’ve spent so much time hating the Silver City, that I convinced myself I’d never had any happy memories there, that it’d all been misery. But, alas, that’s not true. There were good moments there, and when I connected with Michael today, I remembered some of them,” Lucifer admitted. 

“Like your annoying twin handshake?” Amenadiel posited.

Lucifer looked aghast. “We never had an annoying handshake . . .” But then he remembered it and his hand twitched a little with the muscle memory. “Oh, bloody hell, we had a handshake.”

“Yeah you did. You two were always together.” 

“I remember that part, thank you.” Lucifer returned to his couch and slowly sat down. He offered to refill his brother’s glass, and Amenadiel took him up on the offer. He didn’t want to leave yet, not now that they were finally getting somewhere.

Lucifer took a swig from the bottle. “When I first fell down the well, Michael came by to gloat. He was content to leave me down there. I was my dashing, threatening self, and he said something. ‘How can you not know?’ He asked me that, and I wasn’t sure what he meant then, but I am now. I know when it happened to Michael.”

“When what happened?” Amenadiel asked, his voice gentle but also firm. 

Lucifer looked his older brother directly in the eyes. “When I broke him. When I did the thing he can’t forgive me for.” The Devil went silent and turned his eyes back to the sun setting beyond the balcony. 

“Was it during the rebellion, when you injured his wing and arm?” 

Lucifer shook his head. He’d done a physical number on his brother during the rebellion, but this went deeper than that. “No, it was before then, back when I went by another name.”

Samael was furious. He’d never been this angry before. His ears were filled with a constant roar, and he knew it was coming from inside him. He wanted to smash things, or break things, or scream until his voice gave out. He didn’t even think it was possible for his voice to give out, but he was willing to try. The flutter of wings behind him alerted him to his brother’s presence. Michael.

“Are you okay, Sam?” Michael hung back, not sure what to do. He could feel his brother’s rage. It was almost suffocating. Sam was angry most of the time these days, and he didn’t know why. 

“Go away, Michael,” Samael hissed. He curled in on himself, trying to contain whatever it was that was trying to claw its way out of him.

“I take it the meeting with Dad did not go well?” Michael gave a weak smirk. “Don’t answer that.”

“I hate him, Michael. I hate him.”

“You don’t hate Dad,” Michael replied, but Samael’s rage said otherwise.

Samael turned on his brother. “He wouldn’t even listen to me, dismissed me. And he sits there in his little room and runs our lives, decides who we are and what our strengths are, our weaknesses. And he’s doing the same for this new creation of his, these humans.”

Michael folded his arms across his chest. “Yeah, Mom doesn’t like them either.”

“I don’t dislike them. I dislike what Dad’s doing to them, controlling them. They don’t have a say. They don’t have a voice,” Samael protested.

Michael shrugged. “That’s Dad’s call.”

“Why? Why is it his call?” Samael wanted to know.

“Because he’s Dad.” Michael had no better answer than that.

“That’s not good enough,” Samael snarled, his rage threatening to knock him over.

Michael struggled to swallow. He’d never seen his brother this upset. He didn’t know what to do. Out of instinct, he held out his arm. Samael was mad, but there was also this desire swirling around him, this desire to do terrible, unspeakable things. “Take my arm, that might help calm you down.”

Samael knocked his arm away. “I don’t need your help!”

Michael took a breath and regrouped. He’d always been able to calm Sam down before, although admittedly it was getting harder and harder. A part of him felt his twin pulling away from him, turning into something else, and that terrified him more than anything. “You wanna go knock down some trees, or rough up Amenadiel? Oh, I know, we can go to our favorite spot and . . .”

Samael rounded on him, his eyes flashing a color Michael had never seen them before. “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!”

Michael fell silent. 

“You’re always going on, always blathering, always in my head. You never give me a moment’s peace,” Samael continued.

“Sam . . .” Michael’s voice was small.

“Don’t call me that! I hate my name, this cursed moniker.”

“Sam,” Michael tried again, his voice a little stronger.

“I said don’t call me that!” Samael lashed out, knocking his brother harshly to the ground. “You’re so annoying! I wish Father had never created you!”

It was out there now. The moment the words were spoken, Samael felt regret. He also felt a pang, a sharp pain at his very core. It was the worst pain he’d ever felt, burning and searing but it was over fast. Michael’s face had been anguished at first, unbelievably hurt, but then he’d gone expressionless and Samael felt . . .nothing, which was weird. 

“Michael, I – I’m sorry,” Samael struggled to apologize.

His twin slowly got to his feet. His face was still void of expression. Samael had never seen his brother like this. Michael popped his wings out. “You want to be alone. I’ll leave you alone.” And with that, his brother took to the air and was gone, leaving Samael behind, his head and heart reeling.

“After that, the door between Michael and I, our line of communication, it was closed,” Lucifer explained. He took a long drink when his story was finished.

Amenadiel nodded. “That explains so much.”

“Yes, it was the very next day that our dear brother returned to my side, telling me I was right, that someone really should do something about Dad. What I didn’t know was that he was manipulating me, setting me up for failure.”

“That explains even more,” Amenadiel added. He moved over to the couch Lucifer was sitting on. “Before the rebellion, you were both strange, both off, and the rest of us wondered which of you was going to lash out first, but it ended up being you and Michael, he fought harder than any of the rest of us to beat you back.”

“I remember that all too well,” Lucifer quipped.

“We each have our own story about the rebellion, Lucifer, but when it was over and Father had cast you out, Michael he – he didn’t talk. And for Michael that was huge.”

“Annoying chatterbox, yes.” Lucifer shifted uncomfortably on the couch. A part of him wanted to bolt and not talk about this, but he wouldn’t get very far with his arm like it was. Flying would be unimaginably painful right now.

“When he did finally talk, he was different. We called him the After Michael, the angel who was born after the rebellion. This Michael was mean and manipulative and vindictive. And he didn’t joke, and he didn’t laugh, unless it was out of cruelty,” Amenadiel revealed, carefully gauging Lucifer’s reaction.

“Oh, I feel so sorry for him.” Lucifer rolled his eyes. “I got kicked out of my home, banished forever.”

“You know the story of how you all were created, right?” Amenadiel pressed. 

“Spare me, please.”

“No, as your older brother it’s my prerogative,” Amenadiel continued on. “Father came to us one day and introduced us to Samael, our new brother. It was you, but you were, a lot. You were prone to fits of anger and fear and none of us could have a real conversation with you, so Dad took you away and the next day he brought you back but now there were two of you, Samael and Michael. He knew you all were too big, too much for one entity. But together, you balanced each other out.”

Lucifer was silent for a moment. “I know . . .and I broke it.”

Amenadiel placed a hand on Lucifer’s knee. “But this is a good thing, Luci. This is a step in the right direction.”

The Devil rolled his eyes. “You’ve been spending too much time with Dr. Linda.”

“You can tell Michael what you just told me. Admitting your mistakes is the first step.”

Lucifer shook his head and his expression noticeably darkened. “No, I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” Amenadiel pulled back.

“Because I didn’t mean it then, but I mean it now. I hate him.” Lucifer’s eyes flashed red in the growing dim of evening’s light.

“Luci . . .”

“After everything he’s done to me, I hate him more than ever.” Lucifer thought about all the damage Michael had done in return, how he’d manipulated him, how he’d manipulated Chloe. No, there was no going back now. More than that, his brother, his twin had turned on him and that stung worse than a million dislocated shoulders. A small part of him argued that he’d dealt the first blow, but he quickly squelched it. There was no going back to before.

“I wish he’d never been created,” Lucifer spat. And he felt a small pain inside. It wasn’t his arm; it was something else. Lucifer shifted a little and rubbed at his chest.

“You okay?” Amenadiel was concerned.

Lucifer brushed him off. “It’s nothing. Go down and check on my bar.”

Amenadiel sighed and stood. “We’re not done talking about this.”

“Yes, we are,” Lucifer countered.

Amenadiel shook his head as he left. Lucifer rubbed at his chest again. The feeling was gone now, but there was a bitter aftertaste in his mouth that no booze could wash away.

Outside on the street, Michael looked up at his brother’s loft. Why had he allowed himself to care for Lucifer again, to reopen that connection? He knew where it would lead, but he’d opened that door, nonetheless. And what had he felt in return from his brother? Pure, unadulterated hate. Michael took a breath and swallowed his wounded feelings. If Lucifer could project hate, so could he. “Message received, brother,” he hissed to the night air before taking off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to make my own Lucifer and Michael lore. 
> 
> Only one more chapter to go.


	19. Home at Last

Chloe had never been happier to be home. She felt like collapsing with joy and relief as soon as she and Trixie crossed the threshold. Trixie ran to the living room and threw herself on the couch. She pulled the snuggly blanket off the back of the furniture and proceeded to burry herself beneath it. Chloe had the presence of mind to close the door and remove her shoes before joining her daughter.

“I think this is the perfect night to snuggle up and watch movies,” the Detective said.

Trixie poked her head out from under the blanket. “I concur.”

Chloe opened her arms and Trixie automatically snuggled into her side. “You’re off from school tomorrow, and you’re going to stay home with me on Tuesday, too. We’ll have some mommy-daughter days. How does that sound?”

“Good.” Trixie snuggled even closer and Chloe fought the urge to cry. There were too many terrifying moments today when she’d thought she’d never get to do this again.

“We’ll go to Daddy’s on Tuesday and make tacos. The rest of the time, we’ll just hang out.”

“And watch movies!” Trixie proclaimed. She leaned forward a little to snatch the remote and turn the TV on.

“And talk a little,” her mother added. ‘’We need to have an honest conversation about friends, and peer pressure, treating others with respect, and listening.” Chloe ran her hand through Trixie’s hair, gently pulling out some loose tangles.

Trixie looked up at her. “Okay,” she replied. She seemed understanding and open to such a talk.

Chole wrapped her arms around her daughter and kissed her on the top of her head. She was growing up so fast.

Trixie was silent for a moment. “Mom,” she said at last. “I know this is supposed to be mother-daughter time, but can I ask something?”

“What, Monkey?”

“Can Lucifer come over tonight, please? I don’t want him to be alone.” Trixie was genuinely upset at the thought of Lucifer sitting in his penthouse alone.

Chloe touched her daughter’s cheek. “We’ll give him a call.”

“Thanks for coming over,” Chloe told her boyfriend as she held the door open for him.

“My pleasure, Detective, always.” He smiled at her. Truth was, he was glad Chloe had called. The Devil hadn’t found much peace after Amenadiel left.

“I know you need time to heal.” Chloe gave his slinged arm an apologetic look. “But Trixie really wanted to see you.”

“It feels a little better than earlier,” Lucifer assured her. “And you pulled me away from moping all alone, so win-win.”

“What’s wrong?” Chloe was concerned.

“Just a conversation I had with Amenadiel. I didn’t particularly like the topic.” That was as much as Lucifer was ready to say.

“Was it about another one of your siblings?” Chloe gently pressed.

Lucifer gave her a pained look. “Is it your shoulder?” she asked.

The Devil shook his head. “No, it’s something more. A deeper ache.” Lucifer felt his chest, that stupid pain was still there, like a dying ember that just wouldn’t give up. 

“What can I do to help?” Chloe wanted to know.

“Just be here.” Lucifer held out his hand and she took it and kissed his fingers. 

“I can make hot chocolate,” she offered.

“With bourbon, you’re the best.” 

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Maybe after Trixie goes to bed.” She pulled away from him and stepped into the kitchen.

Lucifer walked into the living room where Trixie was. “Hello, urchin, what are we watching?”

“Lucifer, you came!” Trixie pulled the blanket back and indicated the spot next to her. “How’s your arm?”

Lucifer carefully sat down, accepting the spot she offered without complaint. “Healing.”

“Good.” Trixie tucked the other part of the blanket around his legs.

“What are we watching?” he asked again.

“The Princess Diaries.”

“Oh, the one where Anne Hathaway discovers she’s a princess?” 

“Yeah, it’s one of my favorites.”

“I do enjoy some of the fashion,” Lucifer confessed as he leaned back against the couch. “Also, I got her this role.”

Trixie gave him a questioning look. “It’s a long story,” he told her. “Watch your movie.”

The Detective joined them soon with mugs of hot chocolate, and they all settled in. Once the drinks were finished, Trixie snuggled into Lucifer’s side. He let her, but he kept his arm up on the back of the couch. On his other side, Chloe was asleep. She didn’t dare lean up against his injured arm, but her leg was pressed against his. As the credits rolled, Lucifer felt his eyes getting heavy and he drifted off to sleep, too.

Out on the street, Michael watched the front of the house from a distance. He should just go home. He really should, but he couldn’t. It was like his feet were stuck to that spot. There was a whooshing sound beside him, and he knew he wasn’t alone. “Careful, brother, someone will think you’re a stalker,” Michael retorted with his usual smirk. He looked over at Amenadiel.

“What are you still doing here, Michael?”

“Just checking on my twin and the humans.” Michael put his hands in his pockets and swayed a little.

“They’re fine. You can go home,” Amenadiel instructed.

“Soon enough. I needed to process some things first.”

“Like what?”

Michael chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. “When Chloe realized I wasn’t Lucifer, she shot me, repeatedly. She said she was shooting me to prove I wasn’t the Devil. I didn’t know what she meant then, but I think I do now.” The Archangel looked at his brother, gaging his reaction. “Lucifer got hurt today. I saw him bleed. No other celestial being did that to him, which means, these humans make him vulnerable.”

“Earth is not the Silver City, Michael. Anomalies happen here all the time.” Amenadiel needed to proceed with caution. “Don’t question Lucifer’s strength and don’t read too much into this.”

“Why brother, you choose your words so carefully. Do you think I’d do something untoward with this newfound information?” Michael feigned offense. 

“Lucifer’s still as powerful as ever,” Amenadiel assured him.

“Yes, and just as mean and as spiteful,” Michael added.

“No, he’s changed,” the other angel talked over him.

“He killed our brother! He killed Uriel,” Michael pointed out.

Amenadiel’s face took on a solemn expression. “And that moment haunts him every day. Uriel gave him no choice, and he accepted his fate in the end.”

“How do you know? Were you there?”

“No,” Amenadiel confessed. “But I just know. Earth is different. It’s not so black and white, Michael. We all have to make hard decisions here.”

“Hard decisions?” Michael spat back. “Like defending our traitorous, murderous, brother?”

“Michael, you saw what Lucifer did today. He sacrificed himself to save others. Can’t you see he’s changed?” Amenadiel leaned back, a thought occurring to him. “Oh, you can see it. That’s the problem. If he’s changed, then why can’t he apologize to you? That’s what this is about, isn’t it?”

Michael hung his head as his face read recognition and hurt. He twisted the pain into rage and screamed, shoving Amenadiel hard, pushing him into a nearby tree. A limb of the tree snagged a powerline and the lights in the neighborhood flickered briefly. Amenadiel slid down the trunk to the ground. Michael towered over him, his face dark, his eyes wild. He’d always had a temper, a frenetic energy that turned into violence when it wasn’t contained. Lucifer had that, too, but he’d channeled it into his devil side. In Michael, on the other hand, this energy was like a caged, starved animal that lashed out.

“You’ve never understood! You’ve always been you, singular you!” Michael shouted down at him. “You’ve never had to share an identity or a . . .”

“A soul,” Amenadiel provided for him.

Michael’s eyes flashed in recognition again. He turned his face back to the house where his twin brother was resting comfortably. It wasn’t fair. Here he was out on the street in utter agony, and he’d done nothing wrong. He’d seen Lucifer give love so willingly today so why couldn’t he . . .Michael swallowed hard, taking the pain and turning it to hate. “No matter. It happens from time to time, these things. A limb gets an infection, and you have to cut it off. A part of the ship takes on water, and you have to close it off, let it sink to save the rest. I know things, brother.” Michael looked at Amenadiel who’d gotten back to his feet. Amenadiel had never seen this look in Michael’s eyes. It was terrifying. “And I’ve learned things today. Lots of things. So, I think I’ll go home now, just like you recommended.” His wings popped out and just like that, Michael was gone.

Amenadiel took a deep breath. “That’s going to be a problem.” He shook his head. “Father should have split them into triplets.” He paused and thought about that a moment more. “No, never mind, that would be worse.”

Inside the Detective’s house, the group continued to slumber away on the couch. Lucifer rarely dreamed. It wasn’t something angels did often. When he did dream, it was more like traveling to a place in his life, a moment in time. And he hadn’t thought about or visited the spot where he currently was in his dream in a long time. This was a place from his other life. His arm was fine here, but his head still hurt, and his knuckles were bruised. He knew what memory this was now. Lucifer sat down beneath the tree behind him and looked out over the Silver City. This had been his favorite spot in his once upon a time home. Some days, it was the only thing that made living there palatable, this spot and . . .

“How do you feel, Sam?” his twin asked as he approached.

. . .and Michael. Samael cracked a slightly swollen eye open and looked at his brother. “What do you think?”

“I think it hurts here.” Michael pointed to his head. “And here.” He pointed to his eye. “And here.” He held up his hands.

“I held my own,” Samael assured him.

“Oh, I know. Not many of our siblings would even dare go toe to toe with Amenadiel.”

“He’s a stupid fathead,” Samael insisted. 

“I agree, one hundred percent. Which is why I hid his necklace, which is his greatest fear . . . “

“Because pleasing Dad is his greatest desire and Dad gave him that necklace,” Samael finished for Michael.

“It’ll take him a while to find it,” Michael gloated.

“Brilliant!” Samael held out his hand and Michael took it. They shook up and then down and then bumped their fists together. “I have to say, we’re really crushing it today, twin.”

“Is crushing it a good thing?” Michael wanted to know.

“I’ve decided it is.” Samael smiled at him.

“I snatched some things from Dad’s workshop for good measure. Thought we could share them.” Michael sat down beside his brother. He pulled three apples out of his robe. One was green. One was red, and the other yellow. “Dad calls them apples. Look what I figured out.” He juggled them for a second before the yellow one hit the ground. “I’m, uh, still working on it.” He picked the apple up. It had a distinctive bruise forming on it. “Oh, well that’s a flaw:”

Samael took the red one from him. “I hope these taste better than those lemon things.” He took a bite of the red apple and Michael took a bite of the green apple. They both chewed for a moment.

“Okay, a little tart, but pretty good.” Samael took another bite.

“This one’s kind of sour, but not like the lemon,” Michael concluded. They switched apples and continued to eat in silence.

“Are you okay?” Michael asked after a moment. He’d felt this uneasiness in his brother. It wasn’t constant, but it was there, and he wasn’t sure what it was about.

“Yeah, just lost my temper with Amenadiel. It happens.”

“If something was wrong, you’d tell me, right?” Michael’s face was open and earnest. 

“Brother, you’d be the first person I told,” Samael assured. He looked out at the world around them. The clouds were just starting to take on that beautiful glow they did this time of day. “I know I get upset sometimes, but I do like our home. There’s this spot, and there’s you. And I don’t intend on living my eternal life anywhere without you.”

Michael smiled and leaned back against the tree. They finished the two apples and then shared the third one, splitting it equally down the middle.

Lucifer’s dream changed wildly. The clouds of the Silver City disappeared, and everything turned dark. He fell from the hill and hit the ground with a painful throb. Everything was ash around him. He could tell by the state of his dress and person that he’d been here a while. He knew when this was, too. It was after the fall, but before Hell became what it is today. He was alone here. The other, lesser angels who’d fought beside him in the rebellion and had fallen with him wanted nothing to do with him now, and vice versa. Maybe it was his guilt that kept him at a distance, or his anger. He was angry all the time, but he was sad, too. Emotions rolled over him and crashed against him in tidal waves. 

Lucifer wasn’t sure how long he’d been down there, but his feet were especially tired that day. He remained on his knees and looked up at the ash falling around him. He didn’t want to return to the Silver City, but he did miss it. He would never forgive his Father. But maybe he could forgive his Mother or his siblings if they’d just come and visit him, if they’d just talk to him. “Mother,” he whispered to the darkness. “Mother?” He swallowed hard. “Mother,” he tried a little louder. “Azrael?” he tried another name. His sister cared for him; he knew she did. “Azrael?!” Nothing. Not a sound.

Lucifer curled in on himself. He felt empty, like a part of him was missing. He knew what part that was, too. “Michael?” he whispered. He swallowed again. Michael was his twin, surely, he’d come around, surely, he’d reach out if his brother was calling out to him. “Michael?!” Still nothing. “Michael!” he cried out in despair.

“Lucifer, wake up.” Chloe gently nudged him. The Devil opened his eyes, confused for a moment as to where he was. “You sounded like you were having a nightmare.” Lucifer blinked a few times. There were tears hanging in the corners of his eyes. “I didn’t know you could dream.”

“More like re-visiting the past,” Lucifer told her.

“Didn’t sound like a good memory.”

“It wasn’t. But I’m better now,” he assured her. He looked down and realized that his arm had slid from the back of the couch and wrapped around Trixie. He was glad he hadn’t roused her during his dream.

Chloe carefully guided his head to her shoulder. “You know you’re safe here, right?”

“Yes,” he replied as Chloe pressed her lips to his forehead. Lucifer closed his eyes, reveling in the kiss. Curled up here on the Detective’s couch, he felt safer than he had in an awfully long time. This was a feeling he’d been searching for since leaving the Silver City. Here, now, he was home at last.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading. I really appreciated your feedback and comments. I hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. It was a nice distraction during this trying year. 
> 
> I know not everything's resolved, but I wanted to end the story here in this moment of time.
> 
> Hopefully soon we'll have Season 5A and then Season 6! 
> 
> Take care, friends.


End file.
